Tabris, Hero of Ferelden
by Kayf
Summary: Niko manages to get out of the wedding he never wanted, though at a terrible cost that he'd trade it back for. Now he does his family proud, while still leaving them behind to face their demons without him. Thrust into a role of leadership, he'll struggle across the country to unite an army, discovering new friends, long lost friends, and the complications of romance along the way.
1. Summer Wedding

**Author's note:** My first Dragon Age fic! Also my first multi-chapter fic. I've been wanting to write about my Warden for a long time, but I didn't think it would be good enough if I tried. Well, screw that and I'm writing it whether anyone reads it or not. Though I welcome critique/reviews if you do happen to read it of course. I love writing and I love learning to write _better_.

Surana (mage elf origin) will make an appearance later! I feel like, of all the origins, it's the mage who has the best chance of surviving the events of their origin if Duncan isn't there to recruit them.

**Warnings:** The first two chapters deal with the events of the City Elf Origin, so warnings for mentions of sexual assault. There are no graphic scenes here, but it is mentioned.

**Rating:** T for now, but might be M later if I feel like writing that.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Summer Wedding

Shianni looked excited as she went off to find the other Bridesmaids and her dress, leaving Niko sitting on the lower mattress of the rickety bunk-bed.

_'Well at least someone is happy about the wedding,'_ he thought.

Niko Tabris sure wasn't. And he could imagine Soris, his cousin and fellow groom in the double-wedding, was just as nervous.

Niko dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, hoping this was all just a bad dream.

He hadn't slept well the last few nights, too frazzled and alert to fall into anything close to a peaceful rest as the wedding drew near. He'd gone out in the middle of the night to climb the rooftops and practice with his bow and arrows. He preferred the dual weapons his mother mentored him in; the close combat of a short blade and the swift, fluid movements it took to wield them. But archery was a useful skill, and Adaia had always taught him to be practical.

He sighed, wishing his mother were here for his wedding. Maybe she'd have helped him to get out of it. Or maybe, since she wasn't a fool, she would have simply helped him get through it. But she would have at least listened to him. And he could really use someone that would listen to him for once.

He didn't want to get married. He didn't want to settle down and start a family. No one cared what he wanted though. Whenever he tried to tell any of this to someone, they just chuckled and asked what he expected to do instead. They never actually listened to his ideas though. And why would they? What kind of life did an elf from the city expect to have? How could any of them ask for more than a hovel in the Alienage, a menial job, and a family to raise into the exact same life?

Niko shook his head as he moved to the wash basin to clean up a little. What was expected of him was so different than what he'd always envisioned for himself. He wanted to see the world, to travel beyond the Alienage walls and out of Denerim, to sail seas, and climb mountains.. or die trying.

Staring at the chipped and rotted wood of the wall in front of him, he felt that dream slipping further and further away.

Cyrion was tending to the fireplace when he saw that Niko was up and moving.

"Morning, my son. It's your big day!" He said happily as he set the fire poker down. The shadows of flames flickered over his aging face as he looked to his son, regarding him with pride and sadness. "Oh I wish your mother could have been here."

Niko frowned and dried his hands, hesitating on what he wanted to say. "Could we talk about this arrangement?"

"Still not pleased I can see," his father said, unsurprised. "Of course we can talk."

Niko heaved a sigh, unsure he wanted to try this conversation again, but he just had to. "Do I really have to get married?"

As he anticipated, his father simply explained what Niko already knew; that marriage was what set the children apart from the adults, that he wouldn't be taken seriously until he was wed.

While no elf in Denerim was anything but poor compared to the general population, Cyrion had been working as a servant in a Bann Rodolf's employ for years and was much better off than many of the elves in the Alienage. Niko was well aware that his father had paid a nice dowry to the family of his betrothed. He was a good father who always wanted the best for his son, which was why Niko hated to complain.

"But I don't want to get married," he said, almost appalled at himself for how close that had sounded to whining. He was being sincere though. The idea of marriage terrified him. Since he was a kid, all he'd ever wanted was to see more, do more, and be more, like heroes in the stories he heard. He'd always wanted to put the training his mother gave him to proper use on real adventures. He'd long ago grown out of corralling the other elven children into the market streets for "swordplay", nearly poking each other's eyes out with sticks as they battled epic monsters brought to life only by their imagination.

But with marriage came responsibilities at home. Once he was wed, the hand that reached out for those distant hopes and dreams would be severed.

His father chuckled, shattering Niko's melodramatic reflections. "I understand, son. Before I met Adaia, I was ready to go hunt for the Dalish."

Niko smiled a little at the idea of his father, young and ready to run out on his wedding to find wild elves, only to change his mind once he laid eyes on his bride. The implication made Niko wonder if he'd feel the same once he met his betrothed too.

He highly doubted it though. He'd already come to the realization that, while he did think girls were very pretty, he was far more attracted to men. Of course, being such a close community, most people in the Alienage had caught wind of that juicy bit of gossip when he'd been caught sneaking around with a strapping young city guard.

It was a long story.

And he suspected the scandal played a part in why his father and the Elder wanted to marry him off all of a sudden, though no one had said anything of the sort.

"Just be glad I chose the match," Cyrion went on. "Without parents to represent you, children like your cousin Soris end up marrying whoever the Elder can find."

"So who did the Elder find for him?"

"I don't know. I haven't met the girl. If you're curious, you should go find out for yourself," his father suggested, sounding like he wanted to end the conversation. "Alright, time for you to go find Soris. The sooner this wedding starts, the less chance you two have to escape."

Niko tossed him a smirk before turning towards the footlocker near his bunk-bed.

"A small chance is still a chance."

His father chuckled again. "Still have your mother's smart mouth I see."

Niko smiled. He was always glad when others likened him to his mother, whether they meant it as praise, tease, or an insult. She'd been a bit of a wild one when she was alive and Niko was cut from the same cloth. And everybody knew it.

"Oh one last thing before you go," his father said to him as Niko got his wedding clothes out of the footlocker. They were fine, silken garments - almost too garish for his liking, but the colors were subdued enough.

"Your martial training..." his father went on and Niko was sure he was not going to like this. "The swordplay, knives, and whatever else your mother taught you. Best not to mention it to your betrothed."

Niko frowned as he knelt down to tuck the bottoms of his striped pants into his boots. "She'll find out sooner or later."

"Later. Hm. Definitely later," Cyrion advised. "We don't want to seem like trouble-makers, after all. Adaia made that mistake."

Niko winced, feeling old remnants of anger rise in his chest as he straightened to face his father. "The humans who killed her made a bigger one."

"Our word is full of so many injustices," his father said, sounding a bit drained as he turned away. Niko was too angry to regret saying it though. His father was right. There were so many injustices. _Too _many. And he didn't want to stay here and see more oppression forced on his people. He wasn't sure he could do any less than his mother had and get killed over it someday.

Knowing the conversation was over and there was no chance of calling off the wedding, he felt disheartened and nearly didn't hear his father's next words as he gently placed a pair of leather boots into his arms. "Take these. Your mother wanted you to have them."

Niko held the boots with care, running his fingers over the pattern of vines that marked them. A faint smile crossed his face.

His mother was gone, yes, but they carried her memory with them. And he'd carry her memento to the wedding since she couldn't be there herself, he decided, slipping off the boots he'd been wearing and putting these ones on instead.

His father shooed him off then to go find Soris.

Niko stepped outside to the dirt and ramshackle homes of the Alienage. Down the cobblestone path, near the gate entrance, he heard some interesting drunken poetry from some celebrators. It was good to see everyone in such high spirits. Weddings were cause for revelry among the whole community and he'd be gulping ale and having fun too if it weren't _his _wedding.

And it did seem as if everyone was celebrating, except for him. The place was crowded with people talking about how grand the wedding would be and congratulating him as he passed. He went by the Vhenadahl tree and heard an older couple talking about how much he looked like his mother and father. After chatting with them, he learned they were friends of his family - Dilwyn and Gethon. They gave him 15 silver coins as a wedding gift, and the option of running out on the ceremony suddenly seemed like a bratty thing to do. Though he ended up giving most of the coin to an old friend, Nessa, so she and her family could stay in the Alienage. Apparently their human landlord decided to turn their home into storage. What an ass.

He'd always liked Nessa. She was strikingly beautiful and she was never as impressed with Niko (or afraid of him) like a lot of their other peers in the Alienage. He'd been quite the little ringleader as a child after all. Once he handed her the silvers though, she was awestruck, pulling him into a hug and exclaiming that she loved him before running off to convince her parents to accept the charity and stay in Denerim.

Niko then stopped by Alarith's store, hoping he could linger inside and pretend it was just any other day, perusing the shopkeeper's more discreet goods. Niko did a bit of work for some "interested parties" in Denerim, which mostly meant a bit of low-grade smuggling, leaving things at drop points, or playing the hired blade to make sure a negotiation went smoothly. Alarith's shop benefited from some of the smuggling work Niko had his hands in. Yet Niko found no refuge here as his friend shooed him away, knowing what he was trying to do. The store was closed for the wedding anyway and Alarith wanted to get ready for the festivities. So the young groom wandered around the corner, where some kids were playing, pretending to be King Maric and other human heroes.

"Why don't you play as elves?" he asked them.

"Do you know any stories about elven heroes?" the little girl rightfully asked.

Niko didn't, but that didn't mean none existed. So he made one up and told them the story of Tathas, the sneaky bandit, and smiled proudly as he walked away listening to them argue over who got to play as his fictional heroine.

When he reached the gates on the other side of the Alienage, he caught sight of the distinctive red hair that many of his family members had. Soris removed himself from the tree he'd been leaning against when he noticed him approaching. Niko tried not to grimace at the sight his cousins' bright wedding clothes clashing with his fiery hair.

"Well if it isn't my lucky cousin," Soris said. "Care to celebrate the end of our independence together?"

"Is running away still an option?" Niko asked with a mirthless smile.

"Are you insane? Where would you go?" Soris challenged. "Into the woods to live with the Dalish elves?"

Seemed like going off to join the Dalish was a popular alternative when young city elves were faced with marriage. They both heard all the stories about the Dalish from Alarith before. Alarith had been a slave in Tevinter and claimed he met a Dalish clan when he escaped to Ferelden. A lot of people in the community thought they were just a myth, a story passed down by the Hahren. Niko didn't hold much of an opinion on them himself.

"I'm just not thrilled at the idea of getting married," he admitted to his cousin.

"You're not thrilled? Apparently, your bride is a dream come true. Mine sounds like a dying mouse."

Niko rolled his eyes, but smiled. He couldn't blame Soris since he wasn't exactly cheerful about this arrangement himself. He briefly wondered if he'd be more excited if his betrothed were a muscled smith or sailor. Maybe. If the guy had a ship for them to sail off on. Ah, he could dream at least.

"I'm sure she's quite nice," Niko attempted to reassure his cousin, though his distinct lack of enthusiasm made his words ineffective.

Soris rolled his eyes.

If his cousin had shown any interest in running out on the wedding, Niko might have actually made a serious plan to escape. It _would_ be just like him to do something like that, dragging Soris right along for the ride. But they were supposed to be adults now, at least that's what this day was partly supposed to signify. Running out and disappointing everyone would be a childish thing to do.

They bumped into Elva then. She had a lot to complain about as always, though they'd done nothing but greet her.

"A lot of good a wife'll do you," she said to Niko snidely. "We all know you're into a _different _sort."

Soris's ears turned red as he started shifting from foot to foot. Clearly he was more bothered by the remark than the person it was directed at. Niko had to wonder if his cousin even believed those particular rumors about him. Niko himself had never confirmed or denied them, especially after they took an exaggerated turn, as rumors often do. It just didn't do for a young elf to prefer to dally with men instead of women. Maybe in other places it wasn't a big deal, but marriage and having children was such an important part of the Alienage culture. The part about his liaison being with a human… Well, that was another thing elves just didn't do (or weren't supposed to do, rather).

"M-maybe we should go find our brides," Soris suggested.

"Maybe you _should_, so you can leave me alone," Elva spat.

Niko nodded and looked back at the bitter woman as they turned to walk away.

That's about when the trouble started.

The gates were closed, supposed to be keeping trouble out. But since when did that stop the shemlen from going where they wanted to go? Niko froze as three nicely-dressed humans walked in, their apparent leader grabbing hold of one of the bridesmaids. Niko knew her; her name was Nola. She cried out and struggled, freeing herself from the man's groping hands and ran from him, though he'd wrenched her arm in the process.

Rage boiled inside of Niko as the despicable human told his friends to grab some "whores". He loudly singled Shianni out too, spiking Niko's protective instincts - the ones burned into him by his mother's murder.

He felt like a guard dog on a leash when Soris whispered to him that they shouldn't get involved.

"I won't let these humans abuse the women," he said through clenched teeth.

Soris's eyes widened as the human apparently took notice of them and came over.

"What's this?" the shem asked, mocking. "The two grooms come to welcome me personally?"

The much taller man walked into Niko's space, trying to intimidate. His smelled faintly of ale mixed with expensive fragrances.

Niko looked up to meet the man's gaze. His indignation overwhelmed his desire to keep his own hide intact, which was what kept his feet firmly planted as the human towered over him.

"You need to leave," Niko warned as he stood his ground.

The man, 'Vaughan' his friend had called him, scoffed. And like all pompous assholes, he expected them to know just who he was. Like they knew every self-important shem in Denerim.

Behind the man, Shianni was moving towards something, attempting to be inconspicuous. Niko noticed out of the corner of his eye that Soris was trying to silently gesture for her to stop. Vaughan noticed this too and turned around just in time to take a bottle to the head, knocking him out cold.

Everyone was silent and still for a moment as they stared on, trying to pretend that wasn't blood staining the noble's fair hair. No one could believe what just happened.

Shianni looked quite satisfied with herself though, and Niko couldn't help but be proud of her as the pervert lay unmoving on the ground.

"Are you insane?" one of the dirt-bag's followers yelled as he ran over. "That's the Arl of Denerim's son!"

The righteous anger immediately melted from Shianni's expression then. She slowly raised her hands to cover her face as she realized how much shit they were in. "Oh maker..."

Niko knew it too, but that didn't dampen his malice for these bastards. "Then just imagine what we'll do to you two," he threatened, turning his vehement glare on them. His anger swelled. How dare they come here, to their home, on a day of celebration, and then act surprised when they defended themselves!

"You've a lot of nerves knife-ears," the other man warned. He seemed to study Niko's face, as if to memorize it for later. "This'll go bad for you."

He and the other human picked up Vaughan. Soris attempted to calm Shianni down while Niko scowled at the two men carrying their comatose friend away. Shianni eventually ran off to clean up, and Niko was suddenly aware of the two other women approaching them.

Soris introduced the shorter-haired girl in the gaudy yellow gown as his betrothed, Valora.

Niko looked to the other woman, presumably his fiancée. Her name was Nesiara.

His first impression was that she was friendly, likeable and every bit as pretty as Soris had implied. She really was stunning, dressed in a white blouse and adorned with gems, her green eyes matched by the sweep of color on her eyelids. He wondered if she was as reluctant about this marriage as he was.

"Well here we are," she looked to him, a small smile on her lips. "Are you nervous?"

He met her gaze, unsurprised to find that meeting her hadn't made him want to run away any less. Not that it was a viable option anymore. She seemed like a nice person, really, but they were supposed to get married? Right now?

"Not really," he answered, glancing down at his mother's boots. It was true. He wasn't nervous anymore. He was just discouraged. Now that the commotion was over, he was brought back to the reality of today. It seemed his life was going to go exactly the way everyone expected it to, rather than the way he'd always dreamt it would. "Are you?" He asked her.

"I was nervous on the trip down, but now that I'm here..." She sighed, sounding distant and dreamy. And Niko glanced up to see the happiness in her eyes. "I'm looking forward to what's next."

Niko felt heat rise to his ears, and was grateful his skin was too tan for it to be very noticeable. She was imagining her future too. _Their _future together. Probably full of kids, and a house in the Alienage, and him in a respectable job - perhaps a Bann's servant like his father. He grimaced, feeling like a total ass for seeing it as a curse while she was so looking forward to it.

When the brides left to get ready, Nesiara joked about hunting him down if he tried to run off. He forced a smile, wondering if she was merely teasing or could tell he'd been seriously considering it. She actually had quite an appealing personality and he wouldn't have minded getting to know her a bit without a marriage looming over them.

"Don't look now, but we have another problem," Soris warned.

"What do you mean?" Niko asked, turning to see what his cousin was looking at.

"Another human just walked in."

Niko looked to the gates where a dark-skinned, dark-haired man entered, well-armed and armored. On principal, everyone in the Alienage was wary of humans coming into their home. Niko, for one, did not _hate _all of them on principal however. Despite the fact that his mother had been killed by humans, and that truth taxed him on this, it was Adaia herself who taught him that not all humans were bad.

"Let's go talk to him," Niko suggested. This man was, so far, not making any intrusions like Vaughan and his men had. So Niko decided to be tactful first.

"Good day," the man greeted upon their approach. "I understand congratulations are in order for your impending wedding."

Niko was careful not to show it, but he was surprised by the man's graciousness. "Thanks. But..." He glanced at Soris, who still looked nervous. The poor guy. He was actually somewhat on-board with this wedding business and he already had to deal with Vaughan, and now another potential problem. "Please go," he told the human. "We'd rather avoid any unpleasantness."

"What manner of unpleasantness might you be referring to?" the human asked.

Niko shook his head. Was this guy seriously that out of the loop about how things worked, or was he messing with them? "The Alienage just isn't a good place for humans to be."

"I'm sorry, but I have no intention of leaving," the human told him bluntly.

Niko glanced to the dual blades the man carried on his back, aware but unafraid. "Fine. Maybe we can compromise?"

"He keeps his composure even when facing an unknown and armed human," the man noted conversationally to someone behind them. "A true gift, wouldn't you say, Valendrian?"

Niko turned to see the Elder coming over to stand with the human.

"I would say the world has far more use of those who know how to stay their blades," Valendrian replied, almost chiding. "It is good to see you again, my old friend. It has been far too long."

Niko watched this interaction with interest, and suddenly felt disrespectful. "I'm sorry. I had no idea..."

"I was hardly forthcoming, and for that I apologize," the human said, and Niko was beginning to like him.

Valendrian looked to the grooms. "May I present Duncan, head of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden."

Niko nodded to the man. "Well met, Duncan."

"And you, lad."

Soris shifted awkwardly while Niko lingered to listen to the exchange between the two men, though it had nothing to do with him. At the mention of the word "Blight", Niko glanced to Soris but was disappointed to see he wasn't following the conversation at all.

But he was discouraged from asking about it by Valendrian, who then went off to prepare for the wedding ceremony. Soris wandered off too, and Niko was about to follow, but dread filled him at the prospect of going anywhere. As if leaving this spot meant stepping directly into his unwanted future.

He glanced to Duncan, who was watching him with an unreadable expression.

Well the Elder was gone now, so there was nothing to stop him from asking questions.

"I'm curious about the Grey Wardens," he said. "What exactly do they do?"

"We dedicate out lives to fighting darkspawn wherever they appear, doing whatever it takes to stop them. It is our only charge."

Niko inclined his head in curiosity. "Are there elven Grey Wardens?"

He was surprised to hear Duncan not only answer in the affirmative, but to mention one specifically by name; Garahel. He wondered why he'd never heard of this elven hero before, and he was reminded of the children playing make-believe games about Tathas. If only he'd been able to tell them about Garahel, whoever he was. Duncan wasn't about to tell him the story right now, but Niko decided that he would have to learn it sometime.

"How do you know the elder?" he asked then.

"Valendrian and I have known each other for almost twenty years... since the time I tried to recruit your mother, in fact."

That certainly got Niko's attention. His mother had been a skilled rogue, and imagining her as a slayer of monsters made him feel like a little boy again, hero-worshiping her as he did.

"You tried recruiting my mother?" he asked, surprise in his tone.

"I did. Your mother was a fiery woman," Duncan said, sounding impressed even after two decades. "She would have made an excellent Grey Warden."

"So what happened?" Niko asked because, obviously, Adaia hadn't joined the Order.

"I never made the offer," Duncan told him. "Valendrian convinced me it was better for her to remain here with her family. As there was no Blight, and thus no immediate need for recruits, I deferred to his wishes. But it seems she passed her training on to you, am I right?"

Niko nodded, intrigued, as apparently Duncan had already heard things about him. Most people in the Alienage did, but Duncan wasn't from around here.

Again, though, he was reminded of his pressing wedding business and wasn't able to ask anything else about it.

When he found himself on the decorated platform with Soris and their brides, the nerves really kicked in and he felt his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest.

"I can't do this..." he grumbled.

"You had your chance to run." Soris teased, smirking at him. "Coward!"

Valendrian opened with a speech before the Chantry Mother started the ceremony.

They didn't get far, and Niko would have welcomed any interruption... except for this one.


	2. A Day for Decapitation

**Author's note:** Didn't wanna leave it hanging in the middle of the Origin story for too long, so here's Chapter 2!

**Warnings:** Sexual assault (non-graphic)

**Rating:** Still T for now

* * *

**Chapter 2**

A Day for Decapitation

Vaughan.

He and his friends - escorted by personal armed guards - started rounding up the women, acting like he had the _right _to abduct their people for his purposes.

His "purposes" that he happened to be very vocal about, completely unashamed.

Soris was panicking. Niko was infuriated, stepping down from the stage to intervene. He didn't care who these noble pigs were. This was vile, and he was not going to allow it to just happen in front of him. How could this evil bastard walk in and expect to take people like they belonged to him?

They wouldn't even listen to Mother Boann.

"Hah! If you want to dress up your pets and play tea parties, that's your business. But don't pretend this is a proper wedding," Vaughan mocked in response to her protests.

Those words seemed to pierce worse than anything else.

Niko smelled blood, metaphorically speaking (at least so far). It was too much to hope for, but the looks some of the other elves gave this loathsome human made Niko think he might not be alone if it came to a fight. It wouldn't help of course. There were four armored guards here who would think nothing of cutting them down. Even all the bare hands of the elves would still just be flesh against metal.

"Don't worry. I'll return whatever's left in time for the_ 'honeymoon'_," Vaughan promised the grooms, voice dripping with ill-intent.

"I'll kill you," Niko threatened vehemently as he took a step forward. That was _his _promise.

"I live in fear," Vaughan taunted, turning as the elf advanced on him. "Back to the palace, boys."

Niko saw the other man just in time to get backhanded, hard.

-o-o-o-

The next thing he heard was Soris' soft voice. "Can you hear me cousin. Are you alright?"

He opened his eyes and clutched his throbbing head when Soris helped him to his feet. "What happened?" Niko hissed.

Soris threw his arms in the air as he explained the mess. The elves were riled up over this, and Niko hadn't been the only one roughed up. The Grey Warden and Valendrian were currently discussing what to do.

"We should see if we can help," Niko insisted as he made his way over to the crowd, Soris in tow.

"That sounds dangerous," his cousin said, and Niko resisted the urge to scowl at him. "Let's see what they're talking about," Soris suggested instead.

It wasn't too much of a surprise that, though everyone was justifiably upset, there was a general assent that they couldn't do much about it. One of Niko's cousins, who was also Shianni's older brother, wasn't letting it go though.

"So we do nothing!?" he said. "They took my sister!"

"Where are the women now?" Niko demanded as he stepped forward. He felt the tone of the crowd change then. The resolve in his voice quieted the elves, and many panicked expressions turned to ones of expectancy.

"They're at the Arl of Denerim's place," Valendrian informed. "Normally, I'd counsel patience. Unfortunately, stories about the Arl's son and his 'appetites' are... most disturbing."

"Then we need to do something. Now." Niko was adamant. He'd go alone if he had to.

_So many injustices._

"But what can we do?" Shianni's brother asked, helpless. Niko noticed he sported a black eye that wasn't there before the disturbance.

A tan, dark-haired elf spoke up. "I work inside the palace. I could sneak one, perhaps two others in through the servant's entrance. Nobody will notice an extra pair of elves around."

"We can be in and out before anyone knows the difference," Niko said.

That was the plan. Valendrian was behind them, Niko was glad. It was good to see that almost everyone was up in arms about this, instead of biting their tongues. Of course there were still some who protested, preferring that they let the girls endure their time with the Arl's son rather than bring more trouble down on the Alienage.

Duncan gently took Niko aside. "Are you ready for what you are about to do?"

"I'm enraged and murderous, how about that?" he snapped. He was so angry; angry at Vaughan, angry that the Chantry would do nothing, angry that no one outside the Alienage would care about their plight, angry that his cousin was in danger. He was even a little angry at Duncan because he couldn't get involved any more than offering them a good sword (much better than any of Niko's own weaponry of course).

"You must tame your rage," Duncan said and, unsurprisingly, the advice only stoked the flames of wrath in the young elf. "An enraged fighter makes mistakes, perhaps fatal ones. Clarity of thought is the path to victory," he implored.

Niko wanted to slaughter Vaughan and his men. But Duncan was right. He had to keep his composure, for Shianni's sake. For the sake of all the women that were taken.

He let out a frustrated sigh and looked to Duncan. "Will you tell me now why you came here?"

"To find recruits," Duncan answered, which was what Niko had been hoping to hear since he met the man. "I had hoped to speak to you, but your elder outmaneuvered me," Duncan went on. "I suspect this is why your wedding was moved forward: in hopes that I might let you remain. Valendrian did the same thing when I came to recruit your mother."

So that was why. Niko frowned, a bit miffed with Valendrian, but he'd never speak ill of the Alienage Hahren. There were more important things to address anyway.

Upon speaking with him though, Duncan's suspicions were confirmed. The Elder admitted to pushing the wedding to shield Niko from being recruited. The young elf wasn't angry at hearing this though. He felt.. cared for. Valendrian had been trying to protect him and keep him amongst his own people after all.

"To be a Grey Warden is a noble calling," Valendrian told him. "But the path is lonely and painful. I hope you understand I had your best interests in mind."

"It's alright, Elder. I understand," he told him.

Because he did understand. They looked out for one another in the Alienage. That's why he had no choice but to go to the Arl's estate.

-o-o-o-

Their inside man got them in through the servant's entrance, smuggled weapons and all.

They moved swiftly, running into a few slight snags - the cook made them for bandits, but an elven servant named Adwen knocked him out. It put a wry smile on Niko's face. He was even more satisfied to nab some brandy and a bit of poison from the kitchen storage room. It came in handy in the dining hall when some idiots demanded he get them drinks. Niko was only _glad _to serve. He apologized for being so slow while he poured them their drinks, and the poison worked within seconds.

They found Nola dead.

The guards were openly contemplating the idea of violating her corpse when Niko and Soris walked in. Niko did his best to tame his rage as Duncan had advised, slaying them quick and efficiently with the borrowed longsword.

Niko was proud of Soris. He was clearly disturbed after the first kills, but didn't slow down. He'd never had to murder anyone before. But time was of the essence and they both knew that they could not pause.

They ripped through many guards on the way, and stole pieces of the ill-fitting armor for their own protection. It came in handy when they came face-face with a body guard wielding a heavy battle-axe outside Vaughan's room. Niko took him head on while Soris flanked him. The guard had a great deal of size and strength to his advantage, so Niko could do little more than maneuver around him with his speed. When Soris ducked a swing of the axe, he found a weak point in the guard's armor. He drove a stolen dagger into the man's knee, causing him to howl in pain and giving Niko the opportunity to make the killing blow. Quickly, they recovered and charged into Vaughan's quarters to find him, his two men, and Shianni.

She was held down, crying on the floor, her torn dress stained with her own blood from their rough handling.

"My, my, what have we here?" Vaughan turned to them, his tone theatrical and lecherous as he stood to fasten his clothes.

Niko's lip curled into a sickened snarl. The man was revolting.

"We'll make short work of these two," one of his half-dressed friends piped up, going to grab their discarded weapons.

"Quiet, you idiot! They're covered with enough blood to fill a tub," Vaughan pointed out. "What do you think that means?"

_'So he isn't a __**complete **__fool,'_ Niko thought.

He glanced to Shianni curling in on herself on the floor, bruised and bleeding, her eyes full of fright and anger.

_'He's still a dead man.'_

"You tell me," The fire in Niko's eyes were focused on Vaughan as he gripped the hilt of his dagger. He wanted to rip off the man's arm and beat him with it.

"Alright, let's not be too hasty here," Vaughan said diplomatically. "Surely we can talk this over."

"No!" Niko raged. "I want your head, nothing else!"

He attacked, and Vaughan went for his blades, bringing them up just in time to clash metal with metal.

Vaughan had some training, but no experience in real life or death combat. He was also slightly inebriated and unarmored. He took a stab at Niko, who stepped aside from the blow and unleashed a series of messy but critical strikes against the humans. White hot rage gave him tunnel vision. He was letting his anger effect his precision, instead favoring savage bloodshed. But they still stood no chance against him. Niko got what he wanted. He finished the battle with a hard swipe of the borrowed sword and beheaded the Arl's son.

There was a thud as the decapitated head fell to the floor. Then the room - filled with the sick, metallic smell of spilled blood - turned quiet and tense.

"He... he's dead…" Soris said in disbelief. Now that they were no longer being constantly attacked, it was all sinking in for him.

They'd just killed people. The Arl's son was murdered at their hand.

He gave Niko a strained look. "Tell me we did the right thing, cousin."

"Of course we did," Niko answered gruffly, wiping blood from his brow. His anger had found its target, but it still swelled in him whenever he caught a glimpse of Shianni. The damage had been done to his kin already. There could not be enough penance for this crime, not even with Vaughan's death. Consequences for their own misconduct were inevitable, but it didn't matter to him at the moment. "What's important is that Shianni is safe."

"I'll go look for the others," Soris decided, wincing as he looked to their battered cousin. "Shianni needs you." He spared another glance at her as he left to search for the rest of the captured bridal party.

The door shut, and Shianni's sniffling cries broke the brief silence as they turned to heaving sobs. It was heart-breaking, knowing her pain went beyond any physical injury. Niko felt a terrible weight as he passed the bloody remains of Vaughan and his men, dropping to his knees on the floor next to Shianni.

"D-don't leave me alone... please," she sobbed, reaching for his hands. "Please take me home."

Niko felt the rabid fury unfurl in his chest and he clutched her hands firmly in his own.

_So many injustices_, he heard his father's voice.

_Too _many.

He wished he could kill Vaughan again and again. He wished Shianni could have felt what he had.. in that moment when he severed Vaughan's head from his shoulders. The fountain of blood spouting from the lifeless body had utterly filled him with a fleeting, yet powerful, sense of pure vengeance.

"Yes," he forced himself to speak through the haze of bloodthirsty rage that blurred his vision and sat heavily in his chest. "Let's go home."

"So much blood... It's everywhere. I can't stand to look at it," she turned her watery eyes to him, a spark of hope and retribution in them. "You killed them, didn't you? You killed them all."

He nodded, his gaze meeting hers. "Like dogs, Shianni."

"Good," her voiced wavered. "Good..."

-o-o-o-

"Vaughan's dead," Niko informed Valendrian and Duncan as soon as they stepped through the gates.

Valendrian's jaw clenched.

"Then the garrison could already be on their way," Duncan said. "You have little time."

Niko shook his head, feeling oddly numb now that his mission was over. Whatever consequences awaited him, he did not see a way out. They'd killed an Arl's son and a whole slew of guardsmen. The women were home, but he'd still failed Shianni. And Nola.

Nothing would mend this.

"I'm not sure what we should do," he admitted, and looked up to Valendrian with wide eyes when he felt the Elder's hand on his shoulder.

Shianni's brother ran up, frantic. "The guards are here!"

"Do not panic," Valendrian said, his hand on Niko's shoulder tightening before letting him go. "Let's see what comes of this."

Niko watched the Elder walk away to meet the guards. He hung his head, feeling Duncan's eyes on him.

His life was over...

"You will not stop justice from being done!" Niko heard the guard shout at Valendrian when he walked onto the scene.

_'Justice __**has **__been done,_' Niko reminded himself, clenching his fist. It was a small reassurance as his stomach did flips, much worse than the butterflies he'd felt at the wedding. Evidently, he was headed for a fate much worse than his unwanted marriage.

"The Arl's son lies dead in a river of blood that runs through the entire palace!" The guard said it in accusation, but Niko silently reveled in the memory. _He _did that to those bastards, and it was his only consolation right now. "I need names," the guard continued. "And I need them now!"

Niko didn't hesitate to step forward, his hard green eyes on the guard Captain. "It was my doing."

They were hesitant to believe he managed to do such a thing on his own, but no one was offering up any other names.

"We are not all so helpless, Captain," Valendrian said, managing to back Niko's story without even lying.

"You save many by coming forward. I don't envy your fate, but I applaud your courage," the man stated and then turned to the crowd. "This elf will wait in the dungeons until the Arl returns. The rest of you, back to your houses!"

Niko nodded tersely, resigned to this fate. The only thing he really had to look forward to now was getting to tell the Arl what a sick bastard his son was, if he got the chance.

"Captain, a word if you please," Duncan interjected.

"What is it, Grey Warden?" the guard asked, annoyed. "The situation is well under control as you can see."

"Be that as it may, I hereby invoke the Grey Warden's Right of Conscription. I remove this prisoner into my custody."

Many eyes turned to Duncan.

"You can do that?" Niko asked, lifting his gaze to the man, and he heard the hope return to his own voice.

"Son of a tied down-" The guard cut himself off and recovered his manners. "Very well, Grey Warden. I cannot challenge your right, but I'll ask you one thing..." The man pointed at Niko. "Get this elf out of the city. _Today_."

"Agreed," Duncan said.

"Now, I need to get my men on the streets before the news hits. Move out!"

"You're with me now," Duncan said as he turned to face Niko, his newest recruit. "Say your goodbyes. We leave immediately."

"But what's going to happen here?" Niko asked, feeling thrown. He went from being doomed to be wed, then doomed to be imprisoned, and then doomed to be a Grey Warden all within a matter of hours. All he was quite sure of at this moment was that he was leaving is family. He'd always wanted to see more beyond the city, yes, but now it was actually happening, in such a way he never imagined, and he felt his world being turned upside down.

"For the moment they are fine. There are far more important matters arising that endanger more than just your people," Duncan told him. "I needed a Grey Warden and I found one. That conscripting you saved your life is only circumstance. You did what you had to do to accomplish your mission. We need people like you. Now quickly, say your goodbyes. Your life here is over."

Niko turned around to see the crowd had dispersed and his cousin, Soris, already shucked of his stolen armor, was approaching him.

"Thank you," the red-haired elf said quietly. "You really saved my hide back there…"

"What will you do now?" Niko asked him.

"No more daydreaming, I'm settling down. Valora's a good woman, and she has ideas on making life better for everyone here." There was some hard determination in Soris's voice that soon softened as he went on. "The Elder had the women take Shianni back to your place... Will you see her before you go?"

"Of course I will."

"Good luck, cousin. You've been my hero since we were kids. It's just official now," Soris admitted and they both smiled.

Niko reached out to grasp Soris's shoulder, squeezing gently before turning to walk to his home. He passed the Vhenadahl tree, slowing to run his hand over the rough bark, remembering the hot days spent under its comforting shade, and his desire to climb to the very top as a child.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Ms. Surana, a woman he'd known his whole life. He had been friends with her son, Alim, before his magic was discovered and he was taken to the Circle. She was smiling at him, the lines around her blue eyes crinkling as she came closer to Niko. "This is the best thing for you dear," she said tenderly, reaching out to take his hand in both of hers and giving him an honest gaze. "But we're all sad to see you go."

"You're lucky that Duncan was here to help you out," a man next to them added.

"I think this is a good thing," Niko said, smiling nervously at both of them.

Ms. Surana touched his cheek, looking at him wistfully - perhaps thinking of her son - before letting him go.

He turned to see Dilwyn and her husband, Gethon, offering him tight smiles as he approached. "Maybe this is for the best," she offered. The words rang a little false to his ears, but Niko thought that it might be a truer statement than the woman believed.

Since he was introduced to Duncan, he hoped against all hope that he might be recruited. He hadn't wanted it to happen this way, and if it meant he could have saved Nola and Shianni from their fates, Niko would trade it all and just go to prison. But since he couldn't do that, maybe this really was for the best.

He stopped in to Alarith's shop to see his friend before he left. He'd already heard the news, and this time the shopkeeper let him linger for a little while, chatting and glancing over the meager displays as Niko beat away his inner apprehension.

"So you came to make a nuisance of yourself?" Alarith asked, though not without affection.

Niko smiled, a somewhat forced expression. "Don't I always?"

"Somehow none of this surprises me, you know," Alarith said, grinning slightly. And how could it really? He'd seen much worse in Tevinter, Niko was sure, though the shopkeeper never spoke much about it. But Niko knew what wasn't what he was getting at. He was probably referring to the fact that he got himself into so much trouble in one day.

"You know me," Niko responded, trying for humor but it faded fast. "Can't even have a wedding without some bloodshed."

"That shem got what he deserved," Alarith said. "You did the right thing... I just don't know if it will end here."

"I know," Niko said, worried. An Arl's son was killed by an elf and no arrests were made. _Someone _was going to get upset. And there were a lot of vulnerable people in the Alienage to take it out on.

Alarith frowned, staring at the countertop he sat behind as a tense silence stretched between them. "You should go quickly," the older elf told him. He looked up into Niko's eyes. "Just know that we're all going to miss you."

"I'll miss all of you too," Niko nodded to him and turned away. He paused to lay his hand on the doorframe, taking a last glance around the shop before shutting the door behind him.

"Good riddance! You were always a trouble-maker," one woman shouted at him as he walked away from the store. (Yes, even her. He'd miss her too.)

"It's going to be a lot quieter without you around," he heard one man mutter.

The truth of it was that they were both right. Niko could admit it; he was a trouble-maker and always had been. The people in the Alienage knew him well. They watched him grow up, touting knives and sneaking about. They knew he was the sort of elf that could bring the garrison down on them, if not the next purge.

"I always said you were meant for something other than this place," he was told by another woman that he'd known all his life.

He smiled. Some people knew him _very_ well. The woman's voice was both loving and firm. He could almost imagine his mother saying those words to him. He was really going to miss these people. Funny how all this time he'd wanted to get away and now that he was leaving, part of him wanted to stay.

His father was waiting outside their home for him, trying not to look despaired, but Niko could see it in his eyes. He approached slowly, reluctant to hurry along when he knew this might be the last he saw his father for a long time.

"If this is what the Maker has planned for you then I guess it's for the best," Cyrion noted sadly. "Your mother would have been pleased."

"You're not pleased?" Niko asked gently. All of a sudden he was just a boy looking for approval from the father he loved.

"I just wish there was another way. I dreamed of grandchildren, family gatherings and..." his father sighed. "I'm sorry. This isn't helping." He grasped Niko's arm and looked to him with watery eyes. "Take care, my son. Be safe. And wise. And.. well, you know. We'll all miss you."

Niko nodded, emotion clutching at his throat. "I'm going to check on Shianni," he said, and escaped to the door.

Valora and Nesiara were both in the front room, surprising him a moment before he remembered they'd been sent away with Shianni to take care of her.

"What happens now?" Nesiara asked when they were given a moment alone. "Your father said you're becoming a Grey Warden... You're leaving, aren't you?"

Niko stared at her a moment, surprised at how sad she sounded. She really had been looking forward to marrying him. He felt like he should feel guiltier about her. He'd never wanted the marriage. And though it stemmed from ugly events, Niko was glad he was being recruited instead.

"Sometimes fate is strange," he told her, his tone light.

"It is. You've been called to do something truly noble," she said. "I guess we'll never know what might have been."

_'Better off that way,' _Niko thought to himself. She deserved someone who would appreciate their union more than he would have. She really did.

He spotted Shianni near the bunk-beds in the corner of the room, waiting for him.

"You took all the responsibility of what happened," Shianni said, something akin to reverence in her voice as she looked at him. "You're amazing, you know that?" It reminded Niko of when they were children. Soris and Shianni had both always had a bit of hero-worship for him, just as he'd had for his mother.

"I did what I had to," he said.

"You always do," she replied, a distant look in her eyes. "They'll write legends about you someday. When the world was at its darkest, there you came, fire in your eyes, like something out of a storybook. I'll never forget that."

Niko's gaze softened on her, feeling tears prick the corner of his eyes. He ran a hand over the side of his face to hide them. "How are you?"

"I'm alright. As far as the others know, Vaughan just roughed me up. I just don't want them treating me differently, you know?" She sighed. "I love you cousin. Make us proud out there."

"I love you too, Shianni."

"Maker watch over you," she added, sincerity in her wide eyes. She pulled him into a hug and whispered to him. "We'll miss you."

Niko felt both relieved and anxious as he stepped out of his home with a small pack of clothes and what little coin he had. This chapter of his life was coming to an end. It felt right. But at the same time, there was so much that awaited him, so many unknowns.

And so much to leave behind.

His father was still standing outside their home, unsure what to do with himself. Niko embraced him. Cyrion was surprised, but he hugged his son close, fighting tears.

"Get going," Cyrion said then as they parted, his voice rough with reigned-in sorrow. "Before I embarrass us both."

As he headed for the gates, Niko glanced back at the dilapidated wooden houses, garbage, and puddles, all surrounding the proud Vhenadahl in the middle, rising up over everything else.

"Well," Valendrian said somberly as Niko neared the gates. "I guess Duncan got his recruit after all."

Niko looked at him, feeling a little lighter. Duncan _had _got what he came for and, well, Niko had gotten what he'd wanted, too. A way out. "There's a whole world out there, you know."

Valendrian noted the same childlike wonder in the lad's voice that he'd held as a small boy. It hurt, knowing he might never see Niko again.

"Indeed. It only saddens me that it has taken this for you to find it. If you'll excuse me, I must attend to our people. Goodbye, young one. Maker keep you."

Duncan and Niko looked to one another. "Are you ready to go?" The Warden asked.

"I am."

"Good. Then we leave for Ostagar immediately."


	3. Join the Grey Wardens

**Author's Note:** I'm not sure how I feel about it, but here is Chapter 3! A big thanks to those who are reading, reviewing, following, and adding this story to their favorites. :-] I started writing this story for my own enjoyment, but I am really glad other people are liking it too. That makes my day.

**Rating:** Still T

No warnings for this chapter. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Join the Grey Wardens

"Garahel was the Grey Warden that slew the last Archdemon four centuries ago," Duncan told him as they made their way through a valley in the Hinterlands on the way to Ostagar. "He united Thedas, and marched his army to Antiva. They made their last stand in the Battle of Ayesleigh. Garahel delivered the final blow against the Archdemon, and died in doing so."

"An elven hero," Niko mused, thinking about the children in the Alienage again. Garahel's legend would have made a much better story for them to venerate than 'Tathas, the Sneaky Elf Bandit', who Niko had made up on the spot.

"Yes," Duncan said. "Grey Wardens come from all walks of life; elves and humans, dwarves and mages, knights and cutpurses."

Since setting out with him, Niko had decided he quite liked this man. When his mother told him that there were good humans, he was certain she meant men like Duncan.

"You were very young when she began training you then?" Duncan asked about her.

"As soon as I could hold a blade." Niko smiled fondly at the memory of their first lesson, utilizing a mismatched pair of dull kitchen knives while father wasn't home.

Duncan looked to him thoughtfully. "It is clear that you were very close to her."

Niko nodded. "My mother was my hero... Everyone called her a trouble-maker," he added with a bit of bite to his words. "But she just wasn't willing to quietly take the abuse like we're expected to."

"Much like yourself," Duncan observed.

"Yeah..." Niko kicked a pebble on the road with the toe of his boot, suddenly thinking about the morning of the wedding.. when his father gifted him with the boots in lieu of Adaia. "She was even arrested once," he told Duncan. "Imprisoned in the Arl's dungeons for assaulting a spoiled noble brat who was harassing the injured beggars in the Alienage." Niko told the story with a mix of old anger and reverence. "She escaped though, with the help of a human woman. After that, she told me that not all humans are bad. And I believe it," Niko insisted. "But... I was there when she was killed. The guards came in because people were getting riled up. She was armed, so they ran her through, no questions asked."

They spoke more about Adaia and Grey Wardens on their journey. Duncan told him about how he had been a thief in Val Royeaux before he was conscripted. Niko admitted to doing a little smuggling work in his time. He had more in common with this human than he ever expected.

When they reached Ostagar, Niko met someone he never imagined he'd stand before.

King Cailan Theirin.

He seemed friendly, and he asked about the Alienage Niko grew up in. A privileged human who was curious about the slums but didn't dare venture near it - he'd ran into that sort before. But Cailan claimed to want to change things. Niko refrained from rolling his eyes and remained respectful. He'd lived with the discrimination all his life while the King had the power to do something about it and didn't. But who knows? Maybe he _would _after the darkspawn were taken care of, like he said. Niko wasn't getting his hopes up over it though.

Duncan left him on his own soon after that, with instructions to find another Grey Warden named Alistair.

He took his time. This was the first he'd been anywhere outside of Denerim, so Niko explored as much as he could. He got mixed reactions for being an elven recruit; some were surprised, or annoyed, and others didn't seem to think much of it. The only other elves around were all servants though. He'd been mistaken for one by the Quartermaster, who demanded he go fetch some equipment. Niko was satisfied to hear the man take a pleadingly polite tone when he realized the elf he was speaking to was actually a Grey Warden recruit.

If such an encounter made him think being a Grey Warden would be fun though, that notion was thrown out when he saw a darkspawn for the first time.

It was dead; some soldiers were gathered around it, one of them giving a lecture on the creature that was lying in stolen armor and a puddle of blood.

Niko slowed down as he passed to examine it from afar. The mouth hung open, sharp teeth jutting out. Its ashen skin, mottled with its own tainted blood, hung loose from a dented skull. The eyes were vacant, and Niko looked into them as he heard one of the soldiers warning the troops.

"Don't touch the blood. It's black as sin and just as poisonous. If you get tainted by the stuff, you might as well slit your throat."

Niko glanced up to take in the worried faces of the soldiers, who were all staring at the rotting corpse.

It was going to be his duty to face these monsters. As a Grey Warden, it was his only charge. That was what Duncan had told him.

He left the troops and turned back the way he came.

Ostagar was in the far south of Ferelden, bordered by the Korcari Wilds. Niko found himself peering down into the depths of the forest when he wandered to a ledge overlooking the Wilds. A Chantry Sister was there, bending knee on hard stone and praying for the soldiers in the coming battle. Niko got as close to the edge as he dared, wondering what the battle would be like. He'd been in some serious scraps before, but he'd never been part of a war. Actually, he wasn't entirely sure he'd be part of one today either. Duncan never said he'd be joining the fray, though the King said they'd be spilling blood together.

Come to think of it, he hadn't even gone through his Joining ritual yet. One of the other recruits he'd met on the way over, Daveth, seemed to think they'd be going into the Wilds as part of it. Niko looked out into the woods below, but he was unable to see anything but a vast expanse of thick fog and dense trees.

One could only imagine what was lurking in there. He shut his eyes, thinking about the body of the darkspawn he'd seen.

There was a whole army of them in those woods.

-o-o-o-

"So what's it like being a Grey Warden?" he asked Alistair after introductions with the man.

"Oh it's loads of fun," he answered, somewhat sarcastic. "Plenty of darkspawn for everyone these days."

Niko smirked. He wouldn't mind hanging with Alistair for a while.

They made their way back to Duncan, Alistair answering Niko's questions as best he could along the way. As expected, he wouldn't talk about the Joining ritual.

And as it turned out, they weren't ready to do the ritual yet anyway. First Duncan wanted Alistair to accompany the new recruits into the Wilds to retrieve some old documents and a few vials of Darkspawn blood.

The four of them set out into the misty forest, boots trampling grass made brittle by frost. It was cold here, even in the summer. The air was frigid and held the thick, musky smell of vegetation. The mysterious fog enveloped them, seeping into their armor and leaving them damp and chilled.

Out of boredom and curiosity, Niko and Daveth cooked up an elaborate and impossible idea for what the darkspawn blood might be used for in the ritual. Their notions had Ser Jory grimacing and Alistair shaking his head.

"You'll see soon enough," the young Grey Warden assured them.

Not very far in, they found the sole survivor of a scouting party. He was lying on the ground, blood streaking his face and broken armor. They bandaged him up so he'd have a chance of getting back to the camp, but Niko wasn't sure it would help. The scouting band had been attacked by darkspawn, and that soldier had been covered in a lot of blood - not all of it his own probably. It was poison.

Ser Jory seemed to take this as a sign that they should turn back, though. It was reckless, he said, to potentially put four men up against an army of darkspawn. Niko disagreed, however. Maybe it _was _dangerous, but Duncan wouldn't send them out here recklessly. He was trying to bolster the Grey Warden numbers, and carelessly sending out the new recruits would be counter-productive. He didn't mention this though, letting Alistair address Ser Jory's concerns instead.

And it made a bit more sense when Alistair explained that all Grey Wardens could sense darkspawn, which was why he needed to accompany them. Niko wasn't sure how that was possible, but like everything else he figured it would be clear once they did the Joining ritual.

Further in, the ground turned mucky underfoot, their boots sucked into muddy quagmire when they ventured too close to the swamp water.

The forest grew eerily quiet, and the four of them moved forward without a word as they listened. Niko's gaze fell to the thrall of dense trees around them, catching movement to his left. He nudged Alistair and pointed into the forest, where the man looked just in time to see the grey of a wolf's head lift toward them. It stared at them through the thicket for a brief moment before sprinting gracefully after the rest of its pack.

A few more yards in, and Niko looked up just in time to see an arrow hurling towards him out of the fog. He knocked it away with his dagger, sending the arrow scattering to the forest floor. A second arrow came after it and drove into the soft ground by Ser Jory's foot.

They carefully moved forward into the mist, weapons drawn. Niko's attention was on Alistair when he saw the warrior bash some creature with his shield. He then stepped back and brought his longsword down on the frightful thing.

It was hard to believe what he was seeing, even after the dead one he observed back at the camp.

These were darkspawn.

Two shorter ones with sickly green skin were loosing arrows up on a hilltop. They shot upward and brought a hail of arrows down on the group. Alistair used his shield as cover. The sharp arrow tips glanced off Ser Jory's metal armor as he swung his heavy blade at one of the human-sized darkspawn. Niko and Daveth evaded the arrows, running for the hill to unleash a quick assault on the archers.

After running them all through, they stood ready, looking for other assailants, but none came.

Niko wiped away the sweaty droplets collecting on his skin from the fog. He looked down the hill to see that Ser Jory was readying his vial to gather some darkspawn blood while Alistair kept watch. So he and Daveth took out theirs and did the same.

"Disgusting..." Daveth muttered, sticking the small mouth of his container to the blood draining from one genlock's sliced neck.

Niko grimaced at the torn, sallow flesh and used his dagger to cut a little deeper into one of the injuries to get a spout of blood flowing.

After a minute or so, Niko looked up from the small glass vial, which was collecting less blood than his gloves were. "Where are you from, Daveth?" he asked as they both knelt by their kills.

"I grew up in a village 'bout a day's trip to the east. Little blot you wouldn't even find on a map. Haven't been back in years. I struck out for the city as soon as I could outrun my pa," he explained as he poured blood into his container. "I've been in Denerim for, what... six years now?" He inclined his head in thought, then turned his attention back to the task. "Never liked it much, but there's more purses there than anywhere else."

"How'd the Grey Wardens find you?" Niko asked, glancing up. He watched Daveth filling his vial, getting just as much on his leather gloves as well. Good to know he wasn't the only one making a mess of it.

"I found _them_," Daveth said, a note of cockiness in his tone. "I cut Duncan's purse while he was standing in a crowd. He grabs my wrist, but I squirm out and bolt," Daveth gesticulated a bit, nearly spilling the blood from his vial. "The old bugger can run, but the garrison caught me first. I'm a wanted man in Denerim, you see, so they were going to string me up right there."

Niko paused in his task and raised his eyes to Daveth, whose story was starting to strike a chord with him. "What happened?"

"Duncan stopped them," Daveth said, smirking. "Invoked the Right of Conscription. I gave the garrison the finger while I was walking away."

Niko tossed Daveth a mirthful look over his shoulder. "I suppose Duncan has a thing for plucking criminals away from Denerim and pissing off the guardsmen."

"What's that?" Daveth turned his smirk on the elf, sensing a story.

"I grew up in the Denerim Alienage," he started. "Duncan was there looking for recruits the same day that the Arl's son came in and captured some of the women.. including my cousin." He paused, glancing to Daveth, who was human and may not care at all about what happened to the elves in the city, Niko realized. He might even say the Arl's son had the right to do what he did. He continued anyway though, hoping the other recruit wouldn't say anything that would make Niko want to slit his throat. "I broke into his estate and killed him to rescue them. Duncan invoked the Right of Conscription when the garrison showed up to arrest me."

Daveth gave a low whistle while eyeing the contents of his vial. "You stormed an Arl's estate, all his guardsmen inside, and made it through alive?"

"Yes..."

"Glad you're on our side," Daveth said offhand and corked his vial as he stood.

Niko blinked in surprise and slowly rose to his feet to see Alistair and Ser Jory making their way over.

"Well I think that's enough souvenirs," Alistair said, eyeing their filled vials. "Just have to find those documents now."

There were many strange things to be found in the Wilds; small treasures and monsters, tall ruins that jutted out of the swamp water and somehow seemed at home amongst the dark, twisted trees and the murky water. Niko also found a Wilds flower, white with a red center. The Kennel Master back at the camp had said such a flower could heal a tainted Mabari hound he had in his care. When the others weren't looking, Niko plucked the flower and folded it up in parchment to keep in his pack.

Of course, the most interesting thing they came across in the Korcari Wilds were the witches that made their home there.

Morrigan was a striking woman. Completely unthreatened by the four men, she seemed almost amused by them actually. She looked part of the Wilds amidst the fog and the foliage, with her white-haired old mother in their earthy hut.

He had to wonder who they were exactly. Simply apostates, evading the Templars as Alistair said? Or were they more than that? Something more sinister, more powerful, more ancient than any one of them could guess?

Niko didn't even consider posing these questions to Morrigan as she led them out of the Wilds, with the Grey Warden documents safe in Alistair's pack.

But he had to have been staring at her a bit too long as he walked beside her, lost in his thoughts, because she turned to him with sharp eyes all of a sudden.

"Why do you stare at me so?" she snapped.

"I'm sorry," he smiled sheepishly, a bit embarrassed. "This all just seems very surreal." He glanced back to the others, not far behind but not wanting to walk too close to Morrigan. Daveth was giving him an agitated look that Niko read as, _'Get back before she turns you into a toad!'_

"Back at your home... I could feel the power there," he said to Morrigan. It had been like faint electricity in his veins, creeping up his arms all the way to his neck. The sensation made him bristle, and he was glad to be away from that source of strange power. "And your mother... She said this Blight is a bigger threat than we anticipate. How does she know?"

Morrigan sighed airily, sounding as if she questioned this herself. "Mother claims to know many things," she said patiently. "I cannot say for certain when she even speaks the truth, let alone where her truth comes from."

Niko remained in silent thought for a bit. He wanted to know more. But before he could speak to Morrigan further, they found themselves near the gate.

"I'm sure you can find your way from here," the witch said slowly as she turned to walk away, a bit put out it seemed.

"Thank you Morrigan," Niko said quickly before she could get too far.

She paused a moment, glancing back at him with scrutiny before moving along.

Once passed the gate, Niko told the others he'd be right back and rushed off before anyone could object. He went straight to the fenced in mabari hounds and handed over the Wilds flower to the grateful Kennel Master. The man mentioned the possibility of imprinting the dog on him after the battle. Niko smiled at the idea as he looked into the pen to see the muzzled dog, the poor thing lying down and silently bearing the pain. He'd always wanted a dog. There were a lot of cats and stray mutts around the Market District in Denerim, but only the nobility walked around with dogs like these. They were marks of honor.

Niko had always just thought they seemed rather smart and would make better company than a lot of people he knew.

He said a goodbye to the Kennel Master and the hound, with plans of checking in later. He had other things that needed doing though.

Most important, the Joining.

-o-o-o-

As Duncan ran his blade through Ser Jory, oddly enough, Niko thought about what a good man he believed Duncan was.

He still thought so too. Maybe. All he was really certain of was that he had to drink from that chalice full of poison. If Niko refused, he would be killed too.

As he brought the cup to his lips, he tried not to think about the sight of Daveth's eyes rolling into the back of his head. Or the way he collapsed on the ground in agony before he died. Or the words of the soldier who warned the troops about the darkspawn taint.

_Black as sin and just as poisonous..._

The vile blood touched his lips, burning when it sloshed down his throat. Pain gripped him tight, claws digging into his brain and constricting around his heart. He doubled over, feeling the poison spread through his body as the floor rushed up to catch him...

_...you might as well slit your throat._

He blacked out, and woke to a great beast - a dragon - with jagged skin and large spikes of teeth overlapping its enormous jaws. It called out to him, whispers of songs trickling into his mind as it gave a thunderous roar.

But it was only a dream. A _nightmare_.

The next thing he saw was Duncan and Alistair staring down at him. The pain was retreating, though he now felt sluggish and burnt, as if his insides had turned to blackened soup. He almost didn't want to get up.

But when he stood, he felt the effects of the poison beginning to recede. Alistair and Duncan were speaking, but the words didn't quite register until Duncan asked him how he felt.

"I still can't believe you killed Ser Jory.." Niko mumbled, glancing to the body of the man who had succumb to fear and paid for it with his life.

Still it had been a stupid move. Drink the poison or die at Duncan's hand. That was the choice. At least if he'd drank the poison he would have had a chance. Now his wife, Helena, was a widow and their unborn child was already fatherless.

Duncan hadn't been given a choice though, and Niko reaffirmed that the older Grey Warden was, indeed, still a good man in his eyes. The way he apologized to Ser Jory and Daveth.. useless though it was. Duncan had been the one to recruit them, to guide them to their deaths. They risked lives to build Grey Warden numbers, but it had to be done. And it had to be a heavy burden to lead and make such tough decisions that effected so many others.

Alistair handed him a pendant on a silver chain and filled with darkspawn blood.

Niko slipped it on and tucked it under his armor as Alistair explained its purpose.

"To remember those who didn't make it."

Staring at Daveth's and Ser Jory's stiffening corpses, Niko was quite sure he would never forget them.

Duncan told him to be at a meeting with King Cailan and Teryn Loghain soon. He was unsure why they would want him there, but he agreed.

He walked slowly from the area, not wanting to be near the dead bodies any longer. First he checked in with the sick mabari and was informed that the medication was at work. Niko gave the hound a lingering look, feeling a new sympathy for the animal. They both knew of darkspawn poison.

Next he stopped by the Quartermaster and made some trades for things he found in the forest before heading to the meeting.

After it was done with, Niko knew what his part in the battle would be. He was told that he and Alistair would be lighting the tower beacon to signal the flanking charge. That meant they would be staying out of the main fight, something Alistair was none too happy about when he was informed.

"Have you ever been in a battle like this before?" Niko asked him as they waited at their stations.

"Not really," Alistair responded. "Have you?"

They were both tense, and the anticipation between them was palpable as they watched soldiers and Grey Wardens rushing to get to their posts.

"No. Nothing this big." Niko looked out to the tower across the bridge. It felt strange to him, in this moment, that he was the only elf here. Because this battle was not being fought over a human problem. He and Duncan spoke a lot about darkspawn on the way to Ostagar, since Niko knew next to nothing about them; only that they were monsters. And if Duncan was right about a 5th Blight nearing, then that was a threat to the entire country, and possibly all of Thedas if they did not break the horde in Ferelden. He felt an unexpected surge of pride for his people, though none of them were here in combat. The fact remained that _he_ was here, and Niko was proud to represent them in this fight.

People were rallying around them, shoving past to get to the ballista on the bridge. They soon fired, along with the archers, at the horde crossing the valley between Ostagar's defenses and the Korcari Wilds.

The battle was nearly in full swing, and as they looked up to see the Tower of Ishal being assaulted by catapults, Alistair decided it was time to cross the bridge.

This was no easy feat. Not half way through, one of the flaming projectiles hit the path ahead of Niko, taking a small chunk of the bridge out and knocking him off his feet. He ended up slamming into the short wall lining the left side of the bridge. A bit disoriented, he hoisted himself up and found Alistair at his side.

"We have to keep moving," Alistair said, urging him on with a hand under the elf's arm to keep him steady.

The stonework bridge rumbled from the attacks. They could see the glow of fires far beneath them where the horde was spilling into Ostagar.

Finally across the gorge, they engaged the darkspawn assaulting the tower. Alistair blocked a longsword with his shield, then drove his own blade through the creature's body.

Niko was showered by a fountain of wretched blood after he stabbed and beheaded one. He worried about the blood on his face for a moment before remembering it could not hurt him anymore. He felt a bit of satisfaction at that, but it did not last.

There were troops running from Ishal's entrance, shouting, "The tower has been taken!"

Niko and Alistair exchanged shocked expressions.

"What do you mean taken?"


	4. Nightmares and Reunions

**Author's note:** It's been about a week since I updated I believe. That will probably be the usual wait between updates from this point on. Or at least I hope so. No promises there.

Anyone looking forward to seeing Alim Surana? He makes an appearance here, though he will feature more in the next chapter and will likely show up again later.

This chapter is much shorter, by the way. But thank you all for reading. :-]

**Rating:** T

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Nightmares and Reunions

_Flesh and bone crunched in the ogre's teeth as it turned to them. Dropping its human prey from bloody hands, the monster ran at them._

_The mage readied a cold spell, but the charging beast smacked him away with little effort. Alistair, Niko, and the soldier attacked as a unit with their blades, and the ogre fell to Alistair's longsword buried in its black heart._

_No sooner did they light the beacon when darkspawn began to overwhelm the top floor. Niko didn't see what had become of Alistair or the battlefield beyond them. He took an arrow from a hurlock archer and fell..._

Niko suddenly woke, stiff and sore, on his bedroll. The strong scent of sweet herbs and burnt wood overwhelmed his senses as he sat up.

Surprisingly, he'd found sleeping outside to be a pleasant facet of journeying on the road. The night skies above were vast and dotted with stars, not obscured by tall city walls. Well into summer, the nights they spent out in forest clearings were warm and comfortable, offering peace and rest from their travels. He could settle down after helping himself to one of Alistair's stews, just listening to the chirps of crickets and watching the lights of fireflies glow in the dark.

But his sleep wasn't always restful.

"Nightmares again?" Alistair asked mildly, coming over from the snuffed campfire to sit with him.

"Wasn't the Archdemon this time," Niko replied, rubbing his eyes.

"What was it?" Alistair asked, almost hesitantly.

"Ostagar," Niko answered with a sigh, shaking his head. "Darkspawn... Duncan..."

Alistair nodded. "I have that one too," he said softy, a bit sad. He looked to Niko, catching his eye. "You really did like Duncan, didn't you?"

"He saved my life," Niko said roughly, his throat feeling dry. He couldn't remember through his morning stupor, but he thought he'd already told Alistair that much. "He knew my mother before she died."

"Did he?"

"He told me he wanted to recruit her once, but our Elder asked him not to," Niko explained.

"Well," Alistair said, glancing up at the sky where the rising sun painted the clouds pink and yellow. "She must have been quite something to impress Duncan."

"She was," Niko said, following his gaze. "…I really wish I could have known Duncan better though."

Alistair frowned, and the elf noticed him fingering a pendant identical to the one Niko wore, the one from his Joining ritual.

_'To remember those who didn't make it this far,'_ he thought. He was sure it was still a painful subject for Alistair, but they both seemed to benefit from talking about it. He remembered the look on Alistair's face when they were reunited outside the witch's hut, after she'd rescued them from the darkspawn reclaiming the Tower of Ishal. He'd been relieved to see that Niko was alive and had very nearly hugged him. But the man was obviously devastated at the loss of his brothers-in-arms.

Back at Redcliffe castle, he'd found Alistair's mother's amulet in the Arl's study. The former Templar had been so touched when Niko presented it to him, and surprised that the elf even remembered him mentioning that he lost in.

It was good having someone to count as a friend on this journey.

They'd picked up a few others on the way as well. Morrigan joined them only at the insistence of her mother. They met Leliana, a Chantry sister, at a tavern in Lothering, where they also found out Teryn Loghain had marked them as traitors to the throne. How ironic, coming from the man who pulled his troops and left the King to die along with all of the Grey Wardens.

And Leliana - who was surprisingly skilled with a blade - had helped them free a Qunari prisoner called Sten. He openly admitted to the fact that he killed an entire family, children included. Niko was wary of him for that, but they had all been reluctant to leave the guy to rot in a cage. Alistair had said before that Grey Wardens took allies wherever they could find them. And Sten was an experienced warrior, whose talents would go to waste in that cage.

Furthermore, Niko wasn't particularly picky about allies when there were only two Grey Wardens left, and Alistair had evidently left him in charge. Though he had been a Grey Warden 6 months longer than the elf, Alistair had made it clear that he did not want to lead them.

So here Niko was in charge of defeating a Blight. A _Blight_, which could cripple entire countries and often lasted for years. And he was supposed to defeat it somehow. So yes, he was grateful for the aid he was getting.

And then of course there was the mabari warhound that had run out of the Wilds in search of Niko. It seemed the dog had imprinted on him for helping to save his life back at camp. Niko had named him Gideon, a fitting name for the canine warrior. He was a precious companion to have, loyal and compassionate in ways Niko had never experienced in a friend before.

"Come on," Alistair said gently, nudging the elf with his elbow and pulling him out of his thoughts. "We've got a Blight to defeat, don't we?"

Niko smiled and started helping everyone pull up camp. "And mages to confer with."

"Yes, can't forget that," Alistair said wryly. Despite his wariness of mages, it had actually been Alistair's idea to seek them out for help with the Arl's son.

With Arl Eamon so close to dying from poison sent on behalf of Teryn Loghain, the Arl's son Conner was wreaking havoc on Redcliffe. Upon finding that it was the work of a demon playing on the young mage, Niko had suddenly felt completely inept. He knew very little of magic and demons, and he was afraid his ignorance would cost the family or the village.

The blood mage who had helped start all the trouble (by poisoning the Arl, not summoning the demon apparently) knew a ritual that would free the poor boy, but it would take a lot of blood. Conner's mother, Isolde, had volunteered to die for her son. The only other option would have been to kill the kid. Of course, Niko, as the acting leader of the group, was expected to make the decision. He felt backed into a corner, forced to choose the lesser of two evils. He'd been so grateful when Alistair chimed in with an alternative plan, Niko could have kissed him. They could get the Circle of Magi to do the ritual with the power of lyrium instead of blood. It meant having to leave the village, the Arlessa, and the Arl's brother, Teagan, with the possessed Conner to seek the mages out. But Niko had jumped on the plan so he would not be responsible for having Conner or Isolde killed.

The trip from Redcliffe to the Circle Tower was about a day's journey. They arrived at Lake Calenhad docks by evening, though they didn't have an easy time getting across.

Niko was appalled at what they stumbled into; the tower hurled into chaos and teeming with dark spirits. That wasn't what had really shocked him though (he'd always heard mages and demons went hand-in-hand after all). It appeared that the Templars had abandoned the mages, their own charges, to the demons. They were overrun, he was told... but to lock them in with monsters? It reminded Niko too much to the city guards who let the nobles do whatever they wanted to the elves in the Alienage, or sometimes took part in the abuse themselves. They abandoned their duties when it became inconvenient for them too.

Alistair seemed to understand the decision, but Niko did not. He wondered for a moment if perhaps he was not cut out for such tough decision-making that came with leadership, because this sacrifice greatly bothered him. He was reminded of Daveth and Ser Jory - dead for the Grey Warden cause. It _was_ necessary sometimes, wasn't it? Those sacrifices were necessary. Duncan had been prepared to make those decisions after all.

...And so was Loghain. It was because of his decision to make a sacrifice that King Cailan and the Grey Wardens were dead. It was the reason Duncan was dead. And for what cause? They still didn't know.

Niko wasn't going to do that. If the Templars refused to go in for the survivors, then he would do it for them. Unless he knew for sure then, on principal, he could not assume them all to be dead.

And he needed their help. Conner's life depended on it. Isolde and Arl Eamon depended on it. If he sacrificed the mages, then the Arl's family would pay the price as well. There was no other choice than to allow themselves to be locked in so they could find First-Enchanter Irving and any other survivors. The large metal door was barred behind them, and the Knight-Commander's warning rang in his ear.

The door would not be opened again for them unless First-Enchanter Irving said it was safe.

Leliana and Alistair gave him wary glances, which he ignored and moved on through the eerie hallway. Whether he was right for the job or not, they'd chosen him to lead; they were going to have to live with his decisions. And Niko was going to have to stand firm in the choices he made. Not that either of them had objected on this. They all knew that they were going to need the mages, but that didn't mean they weren't worried.

There were bodies of mages and Templars scattered everywhere. Broken furniture was piled against doors and constructed as barricades. Not far in, they found a group of mages holed up behind a magical barrier. Wynne was there, a mage Niko had met at Ostagar. She was wary and rightfully so. There was so much mayhem; people being turned into abominations and, as they later found out, blood magic and mind-control at work. He informed her that Knight-Commander Gregoir called for the Rite of Annulment and would not allow them back through the door unless he heard from First-Enchanter Irving. She decided to team up with them to remove the demon threat from the tower.

They ran into fiery rage demons, black shades, horned desire demons, and twisted abominations. They found bewitched Templars and blood mages that turned on them on sight. There were very few survivors to be found past Wynne's group; a few tranquil mages, a man hiding in a closet, and an elven mage about Niko's age.

They found him hiding in the Chapel, the pews in disarray and statues toppled, but no demons or abominations. The elven mage had created a spherical barrier around himself for protection. He was dressed in purple and pale blue robes, and Niko noticed he had familiar raven hair, a dark complexion, and clear blue eyes.

"Alim, are you alright?" Wynne asked when the young mage dispelled the magical barrier and stood to face them, the fear slowly fading from him.

"Alim?" Niko repeated, shocked.

Alim Surana.

"Niko?" Alim almost didn't believe his eyes. "What are you doing here?" He smiled a little before he realized this was not exactly a joyous reunion. "I haven't seen you in years."

"You know each other?" Alistair interjected.

"I'm from the Alienage in Denerim, like Niko." Alim told him. "Or I was."

"Last time I saw you was when the Templars came for you," Niko remembered sadly. He met Alim's gaze. "Are you hurt at all?"

"No. I got away... Took out one of those shades when this started and I've been hiding in here ever since."

"Have you seen Irving?" Wynne asked. "Or Uldrid?"

"No, I haven't."

"What about Nyall?" Niko added. One of the Tranquil had said a mage named Nyall was looking for a way to stop Uldrid from taking over the tower.

"On my way here, I saw him running to the fourth floor," Alim told them. "He didn't notice me."

Everyone went cold and still as another presence entered the room. It was a shade, followed by another, and then one more, their succession ending in a great rage demon.

Wynne and Alim immediately sent a flurry of cold spells at the flaming demon.

The long arm of a shade swiped at Niko's face. He raised his dagger in time to catch the warped and spiked flesh of its arm. It didn't bleed exactly. When the veiny skin was ripped, a dark, muddied-grey liquid - the same color as the shades themselves - seeped out.

It flipped, quick and wispy as a flame, to evade Niko's blade. It moved back in for him then, its face swathed in rags and one beady white eye trained on him. The demon gave another heavy swipe of its uninjured arm and Niko only stepped back enough to miss the blow, but was caught by the sharp points of its fingers, drawing a bit of blood from his cheek.

He hurried to adapt to the shade's violent swipes and shifty evasions. When he finished it off, it perished in a cloud of black smoke, leaving no body left behind. It was so unnatural, Niko felt like he was fighting ghosts.

He swiftly scanned the battlefield as he'd been learning to do better with every fight. With each cold spell Alim and Wynne threw at it, the demon gave a wrathful howl. It sent a burst of flames towards them, but Wynne was quick to construct a temporary barrier in front of her and the elven mage.

With a snarl, the rage demon turned unexpectedly to Leliana and Alistair, who were preoccupied with a final shade. Niko went after it, shouting for Alistair to watch out.

The warrior turned in time to raise his shield and avoid a bolt of fire.

Niko struck the fiery demon with his longsword, and the blade pulled away hot. It didn't seem to do much, and the molten beast turned on _him_ then. Niko used both blades to defend against the creature's reach, but the flames licked his face every time the demon stretched closer for him. He felt he was surrounded by a wall of fire when the demon managed to successfully advance on him. The burn of its willowy fingers wrapped around Niko's wrist, and he yelped as he felt the skin blister.

Hastily, he stabbed again at its middle with his free hand. To Niko's surprise, ice began to form around his blade, spreading to the spot where he'd pierced the rage demon. It roared in fury but was helpless as the cold erupted from Niko's weapon to permeate its every vein of magma in its body. It steamed and finally sunk into the floor, not even a pile of ash left behind.

Niko ignored the searing burn on his wrist and looked at his dagger, the metal covered in a film of ice. He turned around to face Alim, who still looked adrenaline-rushed and had bits of frost clinging to his palms. His frantic eyes searched for more enemies, but they were in the clear for now.

"Did you do that?" Niko asked him, gesturing to his blade.

Alim nodded and let the ice dissipate from his hands and, subsequently, the dagger. "I enchanted your weapon."

"Thank you," Niko said. He sheathed his sword and dagger and looked to Alim. "You should get to safety."

"Kinnon and Petra are on the first floor with the children," Wynne said to the young mage. "Go to them. We cleared the way."

"Maybe I can help you," Alim replied earnestly, looking at them with bright blue eyes. "You've seen what I can do."

"No," Niko said firmly. "I'm not risking your life by taking you with us."

"But I-"

"I wouldn't be able to face your mother again if I got you killed." Niko leveled him with a serious gaze.

Alim quieted. "Alright, I'll go to them."

"Stay safe," Niko said, watching him walk away.

Alim paused in the large archway to look back at them. "Maker watch over you all."


	5. Long Lost Friends

**Author's note:** Seems like there's a lot of dialogue in this chapter. Not sure if that is a good or bad thing. It's also rather Mage-centric, I'd say.

Thanks again to those who are reading, favoriting, following, and reviewing. :-]

**Rating:** T

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Long Lost Friends

They were all quite shaken after escaping from the Fade and then immediately fighting off Uldrid's mind control, along with his small army of abominations and demons.

But they managed to save First-Enchanter Irving, so the metal doors were opened for them. They'd done what they could.

Irving readily agreed to take some mages and lyrium to Redcliffe castle so they could try to save Connor. It was good to catch a break there at least.

Once the corpses were cleaned out of the apprentice dormitories, Niko and his companions were offered beds for the night.

It was difficult to sleep with the stench of blood intermingled with the strange sense of magic that Niko was unused to. Like Flemeth's hut, he could feel a power here too, though less so. He laid awake in his bunk in the middle of the night for an hour before finally getting up to prowl the halls. His faithful war dog, Gideon, immediately stirred from his place on the floor and followed the elf.

He nodded to a couple of Templars, who were continuing their work, currently unstacking some broken furniture that barricaded a door.

Niko thought about the leather-bound tome he had hidden in his pack in the dormitory. He hadn't actually expected to find Flemeth's Grimoire in the Tower when Morrigan requested that he keep an eye out for it. But he'd found it in a desk while storming the Tower rooms. He just hoped no one decided to search his bag and ask him about the theft.

When he got to the classrooms, he decided to head back. The room was washed in so much magic, and there were still untouched corpses of abominations lying about. On his way back into the dormitories though, he nearly collided with Alim, who was on his way out.

"Sorry," they both stammered.

They looked at each other a moment and Niko moved back to allow Alim room to step out into the hall.

"Can't sleep either?" Niko asked.

"No," Alim said. He spotted the Templars down the hall, who gave him a wary look. He decided not to take a walk down that way then. Everyone was spooked and it would be safer for a young mage not to go wandering about at night and making the Templars suspicious.

Alim sighed and slid to the floor, sitting back against a spot on the wall that wasn't stained with blood. He glanced up at Niko with tired eyes. "How's your wrist?"

"Wynne healed it," he answered. Indeed, the burn left only a faint mark now.

He came over and sat next to Alim, Gideon following to lie down and sleep by his master's side. "Thanks again for saving me from that rage demon," Niko said quietly.

Alim shook his head with a smile. "I should be the one thanking you. The Templars would have left us to die in here… but you and your friends didn't."

"I'm glad they didn't use the Right of Tranquility," Niko said and frowned. "I can't believe they even have such a thing."

"The chantry holds much power over us," Alim said, carefully neutral.

Niko looked to him. "I must admit, I know too little about magic. I had no idea what it's like for mages and I rarely ever thought on it. It really isn't fair."

Alim smiled a little. "I'm glad to be here though," he admitted. "I do miss my mother, of course, and the Circle is not perfect. But I'm not treated very differently for being an elf; it's not like in the Alienage. And I'm given a good education, too."

"There _are_ quite a lot of books here," Niko commented. He'd never seen so many in one place actually.

"So," Alim turned to him with eyes full of wonder. "How did you end up as a Grey Warden anyway? I never would have imagined… I mean you were always the adventurous one, but just look at you now."

Niko smiled. "It's the not the happiest story. I was actually supposed to get married over the summer."

"Oh?"

"Yes, Soris and I - you remember my cousin Soris? - Well we were both supposed to get married to some girls from Highever. I really didn't want to. And I didn't get to either. The Arl's son and his friends came in and took the bridal party. Just took them, like they were objects," Niko sneered. He was careful to leave Shianni's name out of it, though he couldn't help thinking of her. "Soris and I went after the bastards and killed them. We brought the women back… Most of them anyway."

"Not everyone made it?" Alim interjected.

"No," Niko answered. "Nola was killed."

Alim searched his memory for a moment, but didn't say anything. He might not have ever known her.

Niko went on. "I was going to be arrested. But we had a visitor that day; a Grey Warden looking for recruits. Duncan. He was friends with Valendrian." Niko sighed. "And he stepped in for me. Conscripted me. And the guards didn't have any authority to go against him on it either."

"…Lucky," Alim commented.

"I was," Niko agreed. "…Duncan was a good man."

The silence settled upon them with the weight of all the lives already lost… And the journey had only really just begun.

When the mage spoke again, he did so quietly, as if hesitant to break the stillness. "With this Blight, everyone is going to feel the loss of the Wardens that died at Ostagar." He then raised an eyebrow at Niko. "Why was he looking for recruits in the Alienage though?"

"Duncan knew my mother." Niko shrugged. "I guess he heard that she passed her training on to me."

"I see…" Alim looked at Niko. "You know, my mother wrote to me when Adaia was killed. I'm sorry about what happened to her."

"Thank you," Niko said, petting his mabari absently. "Your mother actually used to show me the letters you sent home. Do you still write to her?"

"Oh yes." Alim smiled more. "I haven't been able to send any out since all this trouble began, but yes. And she still writes back. That's more than a lot of mages can say about their families."

"That's… sad." Niko frowned.

"Mages carry a stigma in our society. You know this," Alim said gently.

"I do," Niko replied. "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry I never considered what that meant before. I wish mages weren't treated that way."

Alim was looking at him carefully, waiting until Niko made eye contact before speaking what was on his mind. "Now that you're in a position of influence, you may find yourself able to make a difference for us someday."

"If only," Niko said, doubtfully, withdrawing his gaze again. "I can't imagine how I could. Especially when Teryn Loghain has the country believing Grey Wardens betrayed the King."

"Not everyone will follow him without question," Alim said, smiling. "Many of us believe in you. Remember that."

Niko smiled back, thinking how Alim looked so much like Ms. Surana. The two sat in companionable silence for a minute before he spoke again.

"So what will you do now that the Circle Tower is back under control?"

"We'll clean up this mess," Alim said. "Well… I don't know if I will be here."

"Why?" Niko asked.

Alim bit his lower lip and looked at the floor. "I got into a bit of trouble before all this happened. I'm… under investigation."

"What?" Niko blinked rapidly in surprise. "Why? What happened?"

"The short version is that they were going to force my friend to become Tranquil, and caught me when I tried to help him escape." Alim shook his head, frowning. "But Jowan turned out to be a blood mage. He injured some Templars so he could get away. I don't know where he is now. But obviously investigating me became less important after the abominations and demons started attacking."

"Jowan?" Niko's eyes narrowed in thought. "I know where he is."

"You do?" Alim turned to him, eyes wide. "Where?"

"Redcliffe. He uh… He poisoned the Arl."

"He_ what_?" Alim hissed.

"The Arlessa hired him to tutor her son in secret when she noticed he had magical talent," Niko explained. "But Jowan was instructed by Teryn Loghain to poison the Arl. Maybe Jowan actually thought he was doing a service to the country. The Teryn _is_ a respected man," Niko admitted with some reluctance. "But Jowan got locked in the dungeon for it, of course. And now the Arl's son is possessed and terrorizing everyone. You know about that part."

Alim nodded. He had been there when the situation was explained to Irving.

"But, as far as I know," Niko continued. "Jowan is doing what he can to help them while we're here. I don't know what they are going to do with him."

Alim was silent while he digested that information. Then he sighed heavily. "Part of me wishes I would be allowed to go to Redcliffe for the ritual so I could see him."

"Maybe you can," Niko said.

"They wouldn't allow it. Not while I'm under investigation."

"I can make a request at least," Niko offered. "If you really want to go."

Alim looked at him. "You'd do that?"

"Anything for an old friend," Niko assured, earning another smile from Alim.

"Thank you," the young mage said.

"Of course." Niko stood up, feeling the exhaustion deep in his bones but he was careful not to let it show. "I should get some sleep now. We head out early."

"I should too," Alim agreed. "Hopefully I'll be going with you."

-o-o-o-

Upon leaving the Circle Tower, they were joined by Wynne, permanently it seemed. She wanted to aid the Grey Wardens against the Blight more directly. Niko was glad to have her, surprised though he was. Despite her age, she proved very capable of handling herself in battle, and was invaluable as a healer.

The party was also accompanied by a wagon carrying a small group of mages and a supply of lyrium, monitored by a few Templar escorts that were assigned to them. It was collected in crates and hidden under a tarp so as not to attract the attention of bandits.

Niko glanced back at the wagon where Alim was sitting, and smiled when the mage waved happily to him. Knight-Commander Gregoir and First-Enchanter Irving did, indeed, allow Alim to go to Redcliffe with them, though it took some persuading from Niko.

They were about halfway to Redcliffe village when they came upon another wagon traveling in the opposite direction.

"Careful that way," the merchant, a dwarf with a shaved head and a thick black beard, warned them. "There's darkspawn ahead. Lothering was overrun just a few days ago."

"Lothering you said?" Niko asked. He heard Leliana's sharp gasp behind him.

"Aye," the dwarf nodded. "There's not a soul left. Just tainted beasts."

"Thank you for telling us," Niko said.

Leliana was quiet through the rest of the trip. Niko eventually fell toward the back of the travelling party where Morrigan was lingering behind everyone else. Niko still had her mother's grimoire in his pack, but he didn't dare give it to Morrigan until the Templar's were gone. Since they all left Lake Calenhad, Morrigan seemed to have a permanent scowl on her face directed solely at the Templar warriors. Niko wasn't surprised; he'd overheard enough conversations between her and Alistair to know how she felt about the mage-hunting Templars. She was an apostate after all, even if she was not a typical one.

"Have you ever had trouble with the Chantry?" he asked her.

"My mother has been hunted from time to time, yes. By Templar _fools_ like Alistair, which should tell you how successful they generally were," she responded. Niko wasn't sure if it was an unwelcome question, but he had a hard time anticipating Morrigan's responses to any given situation. But she went on. "Flemeth made a bit of a game of it, in fact. The Templars would come again, and she would look at me and smile and say that the fun was to begin once more."

"Fun?"

"I found the game fun," she affirmed. "I was too young to understand the truth behind what was happening. Flemeth would warn them. Once. Twas a warning they inevitably failed to heed. And then the true game began. Often Flemeth would use me as bait." Morrigan seemed to find that part amusing, as she actually giggled a bit. Niko wasn't sure he'd ever heard her do that before. But he continued to listen, keeping his incredulity to himself as she recalled the hunt with peculiar delight. "A little girl to scream and run and _lure_ the Templars deeper into the Wilds unto their doom…"

Niko winced. "Your mother used you as bait…?"

"Twas a game and I a young girl," she said as if it were obvious. "If I didn't get to play, I would have been _very_ upset. Thankfully the Wilds is a vast place. Once they found us, Flemeth would simply move us elsewhere, and we would be lost within the forest once again." She paused and stared on ahead for a moment before she continued. "I did not understand the danger we faced until I was much older. I had never heard of apostates or maleficarum."

"What do you think of all that now? Still fun?" Niko asked, vaguely wondering if he was overstepping his question limit for today and if he'd face repercussions from the witch. Though she seemed to prefer tormenting Alistair over anyone else.

"I think that my mother made it fun so that a child did not learn to fear," she replied, thoughtful and reminiscent. "And I think that it was necessary." She side-glanced at Niko, and he could feel her assessing his reaction to this. "There are no trials for apostates, no prisons, no mercy. There are only absolutes. So only survival matters. If the Wilds have taught me _anything_, 'tis this: first, you must survive. Do you disagree?"

Niko shrugged and looked away from her judging eyes to watch the road ahead, gaze fixed on the turn of the wagon's wheels as they trampled patches of dry grass and etched tracks into the ground. "I don't know," he confessed. "Are there worse things than death?" He paused to consider his own question and finally looked up at her, her unusual yellow eyes narrowed in scrutiny. "I think there could be."

"Oh?" She sounded a bit surprised, and perhaps annoyed, by his response and looked ahead once more. "I would ask what exactly, but I'm certain that would be a lengthy conversation, and suddenly I grow _very weary_."

Niko smirked and shook his head.

Suddenly though, he stopped in his tracks. There was a thrumming in his veins, creeping lightly under his skin, starting in his feet and the tips of his fingers until it pulsed straight to his center. The sensation was accompanied by the faintest of whispers in his mind, set to the rhythm of his beating heart as it pumped out poisoned blood.

He still wasn't used to this feeling he got when sensing darkspawn, but Niko knew it meant he needed to warn the others. When he looked ahead, Alistair was staring back at him. He'd felt it too of course and was already withdrawing his longsword. "Get ready. Darkspawn coming," he warned the party.

The vile whispers grew louder in Niko's left ear and he recoiled from it. Inhaling sharply through clenched teeth, he practically hissed. "Watch our left flank!"

Emerging through the left side, out of the trees, hurlocks in spiked armor and wielding blood-caked maces flooded their path. Wynne and the other mages in company froze half of them on the spot, icicles shooting up from the earth, engulfing the sickening flesh of the monsters. Along with Sten and Alistair, the Templars ran them through with their blades, making quick work of them. Leliana had gotten some distance between herself and the corrupted creatures, firing off arrows to catch any darkspawn on the fringe trying to flank the battle while the warriors held the front line. Niko and Morrigan did the same, working in tandem with each other out of sight from the Templars, the witch using her more discreet spells for now. After all, once this battle was finished, they didn't want the Templars crying "apostate!"

For the Templars though, this was the first they'd ever laid eyes on darkspawn, so they were quite thoroughly occupied. Nothing ever prepared someone to face such monstrous creatures for the first time.

Despite the alarming number of darkspawn on the road, they still managed to make it to Redcliffe after a day's worth of travel.

They were ushered in quietly. Everyone in the castle was more visibly shaken than when they'd left, and Niko didn't want to know exactly what the demon in Conner had done to warrant that. When they got there, the possessed boy was in his father's room just as when they had left.

Niko wished he could go in after the demon himself. Just thinking about how it had terrorized the village… how it admitted to having the ears cut off of the castle's elven servants and fed to dogs… Niko really wanted to gut this one, even though it meant going beyond the Veil again. None of them had liked that. But a mage had to go in, so he put his trust in Morrigan and sent her.

As he expected, she had little trouble conquering the desire demon in the Fade. Conner was free, and their new priority was getting the Arl back on his feet.

Jowan was to stay in Redcliffe to await the Arl's sentence, should he be cured. Niko hadn't seen what went on between Jowan and Alim, but he did notice Alim clasping the other mage's shoulder and exchanging a few hushed words before he was taken to the dungeon again.

"As promised, Grey Warden," Irving told him, "you will have our support against the Blight when the time comes."

"Thank you, First-Enchanter," Niko bowed. He watched them leave and was then pulled aside by Alim.

"Look for me on the battle-field," the elven mage winked.

Niko smiled and hugged him. "Just try not to get into any more trouble."

Conner was safe now. He was in his room, probably because everywhere he went, there were people giving him wary glances, their horror just barely veiled when they looked at him. The boy didn't remember everything, but he did seem to know that he was rescued. He'd said a quiet, but sincere thank you to Niko and Morrigan before skulking away.

Niko returned to Bann Teagan and Isolde to discuss further plans. By the time their meeting was finished, night had fallen. So Niko and his companions were shown to the guest quarters to spend the night in Redcliffe castle.


	6. The Antivan Crow

**Author's Note:** Zevran Alert! Finally he arrives. Just so it's clear, he is the love interest in this story. This is labeled partly as a romance, so we will soon be getting to that aspect.

Also, I am aware some of the dialogue here is only when you are playing a female Warden, but I took some creative liberties. :-]

**Rating:** T. Won't move up to the M rating for a few more chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

The Antivan Crow

They set out for Denerim at the crack of dawn, knowing it would take several days of travel until they reached the city.

Lady Isolde had fervent belief in the healing power of Andraste's sacred ashes, so much so that she helped fund the research of a scholar named Brother Genitivi. Niko and his companions were tasked by the Arlessa and Bann Teagan to join the search for the ashes, starting with checking the man's home in Denerim to see if he found anything yet.

Niko wasn't sure what to think of all this. As long as Teryn Loghain insisted on stoking political flames instead of taking on the Blight, they would need Arl Eamon if they were going to get anywhere. It was unlikely that they could gather all the allies they needed with half the country believing the Grey Wardens were traitors. But it seemed the Arl's only chance laid in them finding a miracle cure. The odds of them discovering the ashes of a long-dead prophet were slimmer than two Grey Wardens defeating a Blight on their own. Beyond that, even if they managed to find the ashes, there was no reason to believe they could heal anyone. Niko did not possess that amount of faith, at least.

Sure, he believed in the Maker and His Holy Bride, much as any other Ferelden usually did… Well, maybe a bit less actively so. He wasn't one to attend sermons or say a nightly prayer. He believed in the Maker like he believed in exotic lands and high dragons; he knew they existed, somewhere, and maybe they were significant at some point in time to some people, but he didn't see what they had to do with him personally. He'd never been to any foreign countries, and he'd never seen a dragon soaring through the skies, just like he'd never had the Maker turn His gaze upon him or his family.

Leliana pointed out that the Maker showed his mercy to Niko the day Duncan recruited him, saving him from imprisonment and possible death. He wasn't sure he agreed with her on that, but he did admire her beliefs.

Despite the fact that he was eager to check on the Alienage and his family, Niko had some concerns about returning to his home; not the least of which was Loghain's presence and the likelihood that his lies about the Grey Wardens had wholly permeated the city by now. There was also the fact that the Arlessa had already sent many Knights out in desperation of finding information on the holy ashes. Surely some of them had gone to Brother Genitivi's house. So why had none of them reported back with not so much as a confirmation on whether the scholar was even in Denerim?

It made him wary, and his companions agreed that they should be especially cautious around the area. So when they neared Denerim, they set up their camp far from the city itself.

Alistair, Niko, and Leliana split from camp the next morning to head through the sparse woods and scout the area. They were walking through a gully, sticking to low land marked with boulders and fallen trees while Leliana was regaling them, in her poetic manner, with what she knew of Denerim.

She was interrupted by an anxious peasant woman running towards them.

"Oh thank the maker," the woman said with considerable relief. "We need help! They attacked the wagon! Please help us!" She turned back around without giving them a moment to reply. "Follow me! I'll take you to them!"

They watched her run off and began to follow cautiously, their instincts telling them they were headed for trouble. There were other tells, too. Niko couldn't help but notice the land's natural formations putting them at a severe disadvantage in terms of battle. They were heading through a road that cut between two hills, littered with boulders on both sides, providing coverage and high ground for anyone wanting to stick them with an arrow. But there was indeed a broken down wagon up ahead that their dubious guide was running towards.

Leliana nudged Niko and he glanced to her to see her eyeing a claw trap to their right. It was possible that it had been left there by a hunter, but this whole situation just didn't feel right.

They were still a few yards back from the wagon when someone else appeared from behind it; a rather striking elf with bronzed-skin and blond, braided hair. He was elaborately armed and armored. The woman stood beside him, both of them sporting deadly looks of self-assurance. The elf made a signal with his gloved hand, heralding more assailants from behind the wagon and the great stones surrounding them above.

Niko jumped out of the way, narrowly avoiding a tree falling right on top of him. When he rose to his feet again, the elven assailant had withdrawn his blades, and his female cohort had lightning crackling in the palms of her hands.

"The Grey Wardens die here!"

All traces of smugness gone, the elf was nothing but deadly professional now.

Leliana was quick-witted, sending a well-placed arrow right through the mage woman's eye, but not before she managed to hit Niko with a bolt of electricity first.

He grit his teeth, fingers twitching as he rode the wave of voltage that passed through his body. Alistair quickly raised his shield to cover them both from the torrent of arrows fired down from the archers. Leliana was carefully making her way to the right hillside, disarming traps. Niko, still clenching his teeth against the pain, met Alistair's eye and motioned for him to follow her. The warrior frowned, but obeyed; with her task, Leliana would need the cover more.

Now without Alistair's shield for protection, Niko dove behind the fallen tree and heard three more arrows pierce the bark on the other side.

Though the archers were the least of his problem now as the elven assassin was upon him, quick as the lightening that had finally finished coursing through Niko's body.

He was a marvel, all stealth and precision as he pounced on the elven Warden with sword and dagger.

Niko raised his own blades to block him, sparks flying as metal hit metal. Niko pushed up off the ground with all the strength in his legs, sending the assassin back - not far, but at least Niko was on his feet again. He struggled, but managed to meet the assassin hit for hit; blocking, dodging, and countering each other's every move. It was a fatal dance, performed under a hail of arrows and the rallying cry of their allies.

All four blades crossed as they met, now face-to-face. Amber eyes locked on Niko's green ones. "My, you have excellent form, Grey Warden," the elf complimented in a pretty foreign accent, giving a wink.

Flirting. It was meant to throw him off, but Niko wasn't so bashful or easily diverted.

He raised his boot to give the other elf a brutal kick to the gut, but the quick assassin stepped back from the move and swung his longsword hard at Niko's own extended blade. The force of it spun him around, and he recovered just in time to avoid taking a dagger in the back.

The assassin chuckled derisively, careful with his footing as he circled Niko, who moved with him to keep the other elf away from his flank. In his peripheral, Niko couldn't see any more archers, but neither did he see his teammates. Unfortunately, he couldn't afford to take his eyes off the assassin any more.

"Not one for flattery I see," the blond elf noted, earning a glare from his opponent.

"Not one for ambushes," Niko corrected, raising his blades for a forceful strike.

The assassin easily deflected the move and he laughed, genuinely amused this time. "Too bad for you," he said, laughing some more as he engaged the Warden with his blades again.

The dance continued, hard strikes and swift parries. Niko was unable to get the upper hand, constantly on the defensive. But he was not taken down. Niko was a good fighter, especially when he was not blinded with rage. He knew how to block and dodge, knew not to throw himself at his opponent. He was focused now, anticipating the assassin's moves and recovering quickly when he did not. The foreign elf did not grow frustrated or tired, however. He tried new moves, testing the Grey Warden's ability and reflexes. He was absorbed in the battle, fascinated by their dance.

They were both gripped in the moment; the step and strike, the clang of metal, sweat and adrenaline. Neither of them noticed a third man joining the fray. Didn't notice at all until Alistair's shield bashed into the assassin and ran him into the ground.

Niko blinked in surprise and looked around the battlefield to see their enemies felled and Leliana shouldering her bow as she walked towards them.

"Thanks, Alistair," he told his friend and rescuer. "Any rope in your pack?"

"…Sure." Alistair said, eyes narrowing in question as he retrieved some for him.

"I want to question him," Niko explained and began tying the rope tight around their assailant's limbs.

"He was obviously looking for the two of you specifically," Leliana noted, sounding serious as she picked up the elf's weapons.

Alistair nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. "Looking for Grey Wardens."

"Exactly," Niko mumbled, stepping back from the unconscious elf now that he was secured with rope.

Their captive woke in a few moments, lying in the grass, groaning and then mumbling in disorientation. He didn't open his eyes until after his wrists tugged against the restraints and he realized he was tied up good. "Oh... _Ugh_." He winced, looking at the three standing above him. "I rather thought I would wake up dead. Or not wake up at all, as the case may be. But, I see you haven't killed me yet."

"I have some questions," Niko told him flatly, crossing his arms.

"Ah, so I am to be interrogated," the elf surmised. "Let me save you some time," he offered cordially. "My name is Zevran; Zev to my friends. I am a member of the Antivan Crows, brought here for the sole purpose of slaying any surviving Grey Wardens... which I have failed at, sadly."

"What are the Antivan Crows?" Niko asked, curious.

"_I_ can tell you that," Leliana chimed in, sounding a bit enthusiastic at the opportunity to pass on more of her worldly wisdom. "They are an order of assassins out of Antiva, very powerful and renowned for always getting the job done, so to speak."

Niko looked to Zevran, cocking his head at the assassin and raising an eyebrow.

Zevran met his gaze with mirthful eyes, silently acknowledging the irony in her words while trying to give a shrug, despite his bindings.

"Someone went to great expense to hire this man," Leliana added.

"Quite right," Zevran grinned. "I'm surprised you haven't heard much of the Crows out here. Back where I come from, we are rather infamous."

"Who hired you to kill us?" Niko asked, though he had a good guess.

"A rather taciturn fellow in the capital. Loghain, I think his name was? …Yes, that's it."

He almost sounded bored, and Niko figured maybe the 'who' and the 'why' were mostly unimportant details to the Crows so long as they were paid.

Niko exchanged a glance with Alistair, who looked unsurprised, but clearly bothered at the mention of the Teryn.

"So you're not loyal to Loghain?" Niko asked the Antivan Crow.

"I have no idea what his issues are with you. The usual, I imagine. You threaten his power, yes?"

"Apparently," Niko scowled. There was no other reason really. Loghain knew they didn't actually betray the King. But they knew that _he_ did and no way did they intend to let it go.

"I was contracted to perform a service," Zevran told them. "Beyond that, no, I'm not loyal to him."

"And now that you've failed that service?"

"Well, that's between Loghain and the Crows. And between the Crows and myself."

Niko's brow furrowed, a little perplexed as to why this interrogation was going so well. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Why not?" Zevran gave a light chuckle. "I wasn't paid for silence. Not that I offered it for sale, precisely."

"Aren't you at least loyal to your employers?" Niko asked.

"Loyalty is an interesting concept." Zevran mused, looking like he was getting at something. "If you wish, and you're done interrogating me, we can discuss it further."

"I'm listening. Make it quick."

"Well, here's the thing: I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit. That's how it works. If you don't kill me, the Crows will. The thing is, I like living." He met Niko's gaze, and the elven Warden was surprised by the depths of sincerity he saw in those gold-flecked eyes. "And you obviously are the sort to give the Crows pause. So let me serve you, instead."

"And what's to stop you from finishing the job later?" Niko challenged.

"To be completely honest, I was never given much of a choice regarding joining the Crows," Zevran confessed. "They bought me on the slave market when I was a child. By now, I think I've paid my worth back to them, plus tenfold."

Niko's stance faltered slightly, his arms dropping to his sides.

_'The slave market… of course. Buy an elf kid and teach him some tricks to earn coin for you.'_ Niko's jaw clenched and he glanced away. He wasn't dropping pity on Zevran, no. No one liked to be pitied. Besides, Zevran was probably lucky he ended up with the Antivan Crows instead of a blood thrall for a Tevinter magister. Slavery was all the rage in the Imperium. It's why people like his friend Alarith had to flee to other countries and lose their entire family in a mad dash for freedom… It all angered him the same though.

"The only way out, however, is to sign up with someone they can't touch," Zevran went on, smirking at the elven Warden and pulling him out of his thoughts. "Even if I did kill you now, they might just kill me on principle for failing the first time. Honestly, I'd rather take my chances with you."

Niko stared at him a moment, weighing the decision. It would be stupid to recruit someone that tried to kill him, wouldn't it? But killing the man now… it just didn't seem right to him. _'Am I really going to do this?'_ he wondered, exasperated at his own indecision.

Zevran inclined his head, waiting for a response. In the meantime, he tried to sweeten his offer. "I can fight… pick locks… I could also warn you should the Antivan Crows attempt something more... _sophisticated_ now that my attempts have failed." Seeing that Niko's expression remained carefully neutral, he went on. "I could also stand around and look _pretty_ if you prefer." He was smirking a little, his eyes never leaving Niko's. "Warm your bed?"

That did it.

A snort of laughter exposed Niko's amusement, as did the small smile that fought against his pursed lips. It earned a wicked grin from Zevran.

"Really, I can go _all_ night," he prodded, voice dropping to a husky and seductive level as he studied Niko. He knew he'd won.

"Okay," the elven Warden agreed, bringing a hand up to disguise his smile. "I accept your offer."

"What?" Alistair's voice pitched in surprise. "You're taking the assassin with us now? Does that really seem like a good idea?"

"We could really use him, Alistair," Niko told the warrior, using his Voice of Reason. The fact remained that they barely had anyone on their side to fight the darkspawn and Loghain's supporters, and they needed all the help they could get.

"Hn. Alright, alright. I see your point," he conceded. "Still, if there was a sign that we were desperate, I think it just knocked on the door and said hello."

"Welcome Zevran," Leliana said warmly as Niko knelt down to cut him loose. "Having an Antivan Crow join us sounds like a fine plan."

"_Oh_?" Zevran's eyes lit up, smirking lasciviously. "You are another companion-to-be then? I wasn't aware such loveliness existed amongst adventurers, surely."

Leliana frowned. "…Or maybe not."

Niko shook his head and removed the last of the rope securing Zevran. He then offered the other elf a hand-up, which he took.

"I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such a time as you choose to release me from it," Zevran said, quite formally, and turned a serious gaze on the other elf. Niko's eyebrows quirked slightly, surprised and interested in his decorum. "I am your man, without reservation. This, I swear."

He bowed to Niko.

"Well," Niko paused, unsure how to respond to that. "…Good." He turned slightly to glance back at his companions. "This is Alistair and Leliana. I'm Niko," he informed their new teammate as his weaponry was returned to him. "There are more of us back at our campsite." He then looked to Leliana and Alistair and gestured to the array of bodies and equipment to loot from the ambush site. "Let's take what we can from here and bring it back to camp. Then we go to Denerim."

Zevran's eyes slowly narrowed in scrutiny. "You are aware there is a bounty on the head of every Grey Warden in Ferelden and that your Loghain is currently seated in the castle as we speak, yes?"

Niko shrugged. "Yes."

"Well what are we waiting for then?" Zevran laughed. "This should be very interesting."


	7. Nothing Goes as Planned

**Author's Note:** I meant to post this earlier today, but I was busy and the computer wasn't really free. This is actually one of my favorite chapters so far though. Thanks so much to everyone who is reading, reviewing, following, and favoriting this story. :-D

**Pairing:** Zevran/(M)Tabris. I'm putting this up because now that Zevran's here, there is actually a pairing to speak of. Yay!

**Rating:** T, but I have decided that in a few chapters there will definitely be some M-rated stuff. There will also be a warning posted in case anyone would rather skip the smut.

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Nothing Goes as Planned

Zevran joined them on the path to Denerim the next day. He already filled them in as much as he could on how he was hired. He didn't know how much the Crows were paid, and he was not supposed to meet with Loghain again, but he was able to tell them that Arl Rendon Howe was actually the mastermind behind hiring the Crows in the first place.

In turn, they had explained what they were up to; gathering allies, searching for the Urn of Andraste's sacred ashes, and making Loghain answer for his crimes. All in good time, anyway.

For Niko, it felt good to be back in Denerim. It felt good to be in Denerim knowing he could _leave_ when he wanted to. He wasn't trapped behind the walls anymore.

Though he wouldn't be able to leave if he was captured, a fact he was reminded of quite quickly. Almost as soon as they entered the city, Niko was recognized by a man who had been at Ostagar, a man who believed the lies that were fed to him about the Grey Wardens.

But if there was one thing Niko had mastered during his childhood running around the city, it was lying his way out of trouble. It worked this time, but he and Alistair tried to keep their heads down after that.

The City Square was bustling when they entered. An area had been cleared where a few sweaty laborers were building a wooden stage in the middle of the Square. It was then that Niko remembered All Soul's Day was approaching. On that night, the Chantry would conduct a tragic play of Andraste's torture and death, as they did every year. Niko remembered watching the play as a child on the fringes of the crowd. He would sit atop his father's shoulders so he could see the dazzling fire where Andraste was put to the stake, the great Sword of Mercy plunging into her heart. The boom of the narrator's voice carrying over the hushed crowds, warning of man's second sin, always enthralled Niko, though he didn't understand its meaning. The macabre theme did little more than frighten and thrill him, and he and his cousins would try to reenact the performance together when they went home.

As he got a bit older, he would dart through the standing audience, largely unnoticed as he snuck to the front of the stage… The act was decidedly less exhilarating up close. It was too easy to see that Andraste, draped in scorched white robes amidst the flames, was a dummy angled away from the audience.

Not that he really wanted someone burned at the stake and stabbed for the sake of authenticity, but the wonder of the performance was lost on him after that.

They decided to hold off on going to Brother Genetivi's house at first. Instead, they headed to the Market District to make some trades for supplies.

While Niko was looking over a collection of daggers, he noticed his fellow Grey Warden looking a bit restless as he eyed a row of shabby houses nearby. Niko strayed from the others; Leliana was deep in a conversation about lacy shoes with a friendly Orlesian woman in a silken gown. Zevran stayed behind, apparently content to linger with the pretty girls.

"You okay?" Niko quietly asked his friend.

"That's… that's my sister's house," Alistair told him, still staring. "I'm almost sure of it."

Niko followed his gaze to one of the ramshackle homes, looking like half the wooden boards had been slapped on haphazardly. It was only a small step up from the hovels and apartments in the Alienage.

"I'll be right back," Niko told him and walked back to Leliana. He gave her a few silvers, instructing her and Zevran to buy some food they could bring back to camp while he and Alistair took care of other business. That would keep them busy long enough. He hadn't forgotten the promise he made to Alistair days ago; that when they got to Denerim they would seek out this older sister he'd never met.

"This is… yes, this is the right address," Alistair said, standing in front of Goldanna's house when Niko returned to him. "She could be inside. Could we… go and see her?" he asked meekly.

"Wouldn't you rather meet her on your own?" Niko asked, unsure if his company would make the situation more awkward for the siblings.

"Do I seem a little nervous? I am," Alistair confessed, beginning to sweat as the rest of his words came out in an anxious rush. "I really don't know what to expect. I'd like you to be there with me, if you're willing. Or we could… _leave_, I suppose. We really don't have time to pay a visit, do we? Maybe we should go."

Niko smiled and shook his head. "Come on. Let's see if she's home."

Alistair was practically shaking with nervous energy as they approached the front door, babbling on about how strange it was.

Niko knocked for him when Alistair was too nervous to do it. A fair-skinned, slender brunette woman in a plain, cream and yellow dress opened the door. Niko wasn't sure that she resembled Alistair at all, but then he didn't look much like some of his own closest family members either. "You have linens to wash? I charge three bits on the bundle. You won't find better," the woman said as she stepped back to bring them inside. "And don't trust what that Natalia woman tells you, either. She's foreign and she'll rob you blind."

They both stood there gawking for a moment while she turned to them, hands settled impatiently on her hips, until Niko nudged his nervous friend.

"I-I'm not here to have any wash done," he stammered. "My name's Alistair. I'm… well, this may sound sort of strange, but are you Goldanna? If so, I suppose I'm your brother," he blurted out.

"My what? I am Goldanna, yes… How do you know my name?" She glared at the both of them. "What kind of tomfoolery are you folk up to?"

"Look, our mother… she worked as a servant in Redcliffe Castle a long time ago before she died. Do you know about that? She-"

"You! I knew it!" She screeched, suddenly very angry and indignant. Two children, a boy and girl, poked their heads out of a back room to see what was going on. But they quickly retreated upon witnessing their mother's ire. "They told me you was dead! They told me the babe was dead along with mother, but I knew they was lying!"

"They told you I was dead?" Alistair asked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "Who? Who told you that?"

"Thems at the castle! I told them the babe was the King's, and they said he was dead. Gave me a coin to shut my mouth and sent me on my way! I knew it!"

"I'm sorry, I… I didn't know that," Alistair said, solemn now. "The babe didn't die. I'm him. I'm… your brother."

She scoffed. "For all the good it does me! You killed Mother, you did, and I've had to scrape by all this time? That coin didn't last long, and when I went back they ran me off!"

Niko found himself shaking his head and speaking up for the first time since they entered. "That's not Alistair's fault."

"And who in the Maker's name are you?" Her scowl turned fully on Niko now. "Some elf to follow him about and carry his riches for him?"

"Hey don't speak to him that way," Alistair cut in sharply, surprising Niko by coming to his defense. "He's my friend, and a Grey Warden just like me."

"Ooh a Prince and a Grey Warden too? Well, who am I to think poorly of someone so high and mighty compared to me?" She mocked. "I don't know you, _boy_. Your royal father forced himself on my mother and took her away from me, and what do I got to show for it? Nothing. They tricked me good," Goldanna sneered. "I should have told everyone! Well, I got five mouths to feed, and unless you can help with _that_, I've less than no use for you."

"I… I'm sorry," Alistair sulked. "I… don't know what to say…."

"Goldanna," Niko said, softening his tone as much as he could, given her rudeness. He had to try, for his friend. "Alistair came here hoping to find his family."

"_Well_," she replied tightly, crossed her arms. "So he's found it. I'm his sister. But what are you to me, boy, except the one that took my mother away, hm?"

"You think I wished her dead?" Alistair questioned, outrage sharpening his tone. "I never wanted that! I didn't have the life you think I did, Goldanna."

She sighed, some of her indignation evaporating. "I suppose not. A bastard is still a bastard, isn't he? But…" She shook her head, her jaw set as she looked at him. "Brother or no, I've still got five mouths to feed and no time to spare until they are."

"Then let me promise you this, Goldanna," Alistair began, calm for first time since entering the door. "I'll do whatever I can, speak to whomever I have to, to ensure you and your children are taken care of."

"Hm." Her lips twisted into a doubtful frown. "That sounds all well and fine, but you'll have to forgive me if I don't exactly hold my breath."

"You have my promise," Alistair said, noble as he could manage before his courage waned. "I can't give you more than that. I…" His turned to Niko. "Let's go. I want to go."

The elf could see that Alistair had put on brave face, but he was ready to finally beat it out of there. Niko didn't blame him.

He opened the door and Alistair followed him out, glancing back sadly. "Goodbye, Sister."

They walked away, not in any particular direction, but they ended up halfway to the Chantry before Alistair spoke again. "Well, that was… not what I expected, to put it lightly." He stopped, staring at the ground, and Niko watched the emotions flicker across his face as he tried to make sense of it.

"This is the family I've been wondering about all my life? …I can't believe it." Alistair lifted his pained gaze to his friend. "I guess I was expecting her to accept me without question. Isn't that what family is supposed to do? I… I feel like a complete idiot."

Niko sighed. "You're not an idiot, Alistair. But people are out for themselves. You gotta remember that."

"I suppose your right," Alistair griped. He sighed in annoyance. "Let's just go. I don't want to talk about this anymore."

Niko clapped him on the shoulder and led the rest of the way to the Chantry, where they listened to Mother Perpetua and an elderly Sister shout the Chant of Light for a while. It helped lighten the mood a little to hear the Sister recite the verses wrong. Neither of them could refrain from laughing aloud when she said: _"For the Maker shall be her bacon __and her __shield__."_

"Someone's ready for lunch," Niko jested, glancing to Alistair. "I like her version better."

"So do I," he agreed, and Niko was grateful to see his smile again. "I wonder why nobody taught me her version of the Chant when I was a Templar."

They soon wandered over to the Chanter's board to see if there as anything of interest. The two of them were only scanning the messages, but suddenly Niko stilled, wide eyes transfixed on a particular posting.

"Alistair," he whispered, reaching out to jostle the other Warden's arm. His gaze never left the post on the board, as if it might disappear if he took his eyes off it.

"What? What is it?" Alistair asked, smacking Niko's prodding hand away.

A wide grin spread across the elf's face as he pointed to his find.

Alistair's eyes narrowed as he read about Loghain's "honored forces". But as he continued on, his expression nearly matched Niko's.

" 'While it is unusual to post troop movements to the public board,' " he read aloud, growing a bit giddy. " 'I believe it is necessary for brethren near the affected area to respect the honored Teryn by aiding his troops…' "

They both snorted with muffled laughter, then shushed each other because they were still trying not to draw attention to themselves.

"Look, look," Niko pointed to the last line and read it quietly. " 'Treat these brave soldiers as you would treat Loghain himself.' "

"Ha ha! Oh you can bet on it," Alistair said, wiping a mirthful tear from his eye.

"What in the world is making you two giggle like a couple of school girls?" Leliana asked.

They turned to see her and Zevran returning from the market with a few sacks of potatoes and other vegetables.

"We weren't _giggling_," Alistair insisted, both he and Niko straightening up and putting their serious faces on.

"No? I rather thought 'giggling' was the perfect word for it," Zevran pointed out, smirking.

Niko shrugged and handed Leliana the Chantry posting he'd snagged from the board.

She looked it over, with Zevran reading over her shoulder.

"Really I can't believe they posted that in the open," Alistair said, his voice still dripping with humor when she handed it back.

"Could it be a trap?" Leliana asked. "It seems too easy."

"You'd be surprised how stupid some people really are," Zevran smirked. "Or perhaps it is carefully-worded sedition?"

"We'll check it out at least," Niko promised. "Was there anything interesting in the market?"

"Ooh! Liselle - the woman I was talking to - sells the most _wonderful_ flowers and oils from Orlais," Leliana gushed. "And you may be interested in Wade's Emporium nearby," she added. "They say Wade is the best armorer in Denerim."

"What is this _'Wonders of Thedas'_?" Zevran asked as the four of them turned to head back to the market area together. "I have heard of it even in Antiva."

"Oh I know that place," Alistair said happily. "Arl Eamon bought me a miniature golem doll there once…" This garnered some sideways glances from the others, so he tacked on, "When I was young. Really young."

"Ah," Zevran responded, disappointed. "And here I thought it was a whorehouse. Pity."

"Maybe we can go there some other time," Niko said. "We need to get to Genitivi's house."

-o-o-o-

Brother Genitivi had a nice home, the fire place roaring in the warm dining room near a long oak table. Against stone-mason walls, the shelves were all proudly stacked with books - heavy tomes and dog-eared paperbacks alike. Soft, simple rugs were laid over a mostly-smooth wooden floor. It would be cozy… if it weren't for the fact that the house smelled like death.

And they found out why after a mage pretending to be Genitivi's assistant, Weylon, broke his cover. The real Weylon was lying dead in the bedroom.

As puzzling as the situation was, they got the information that they needed to move on in their quest. A chest in the bedroom held Genitivi's research into the Urn and pointed them toward the Village of Haven in the western mountains.

"Could you make any sense of what he was talking about?" Alistair asked when they left the house, Zevran and Leliana trailing just behind them.

Niko shook his head, his mind turning over details of the encounter. "He said 'us'…"

"That man could have been working with a partner," said Leliana.

"Or a whole organization," Zevran added.

"Whatever this is," Alistair said. "One thing's for sure. Brother Genitivi was on to something."

"And somebody is willing to go to great lengths to keep it hidden," Niko concluded, thinking of how the Weylon-impersonator tried so hard to steer them in the wrong direction.

"…Aren't we heading back to camp now?" Alistair asked when he noticed Niko was leading them all further into the city, into the slums.

"I just need to do one more thing," Niko told them, looking to the gate that laid ahead.

"Ah," Alistair understood. "Right. You probably want to see your family..." He quieted at the end of his sentence, remembering how his own reunion hadn't gone so well.

But Niko was sure his father and cousins would be happy to see him, not jilted and money-hungry like Goldanna... At least he hoped so. Honestly, though it might not seem like much to others, the money they were carrying on them right now was more than anyone in the Alienage had ever held in their lives. He wouldn't even blame them if they asked for a few coins.

When they tried to enter the gates though, a guard stationed out front raised his hand to stop them. "By order of the new Arl of Denerim, no one is to enter the Alienage," he informed, a little bored.

Niko blinked in surprise and scowled. "But I'm from the Alienage," he snapped without meaning to.

"You might not want to say that too loudly," the man warned. "Your kinfolk aren't exactly popular at the moment. They were rioting, and killed the Arl's son. Arl Urien didn't make it back from Ostagar. So with the Kendells family dead, the regent appointed Rendon Howe of Amaranthine as the new Arl of Denerim. First thing he did was lead a purge of the alienage."

"A purge…" Niko repeated under his breath. His blood ran cold, assaulted by his imagination mixed with memories of his mother's murder and stories of the last purge. He could just see his father's house burning down, Soris and Shianni getting run through in the street… all because he'd butchered Vaughn. His icy glare turned on the guard and Alistair instinctively clasped a hand around Niko's arm. "What the fuck do you mean a purge!?"

The guard narrowed his eyes at the elf who dared to speak to him like that. "It means the Alienage is _closed_. Now be on your way," he ordered.

Niko grit his teeth as he felt Alistair's strong grip guiding him gently, but insistently, away from the gates.

"I'm sorry," the warrior said, sincerity in his tone. "We can't afford to make a scene right now."

"He is right," Zevran chimed in carefully, though regretful. "We already draw too much attention to ourselves," he pointed out, eyeing the small crowds who had witnessed the outburst. "We should not linger here."

Niko could barely hear them through the ringing in his ears and the pounding panic in his heart. He looked back toward the Alienage gate, mind racing through all the crevices and weak spots he could possibly get in, places he'd memorized through use and years of living there.

But the others were all too right and he knew it. As it was, Alistair was already guiding him back to the city gates with a firm hand on his shoulder.

-o-o-o-

Niko led them back to camp mostly in silence, his mind on his family and wondering if they were even still alive. Once they made it back, Niko kept to himself, making the excuse that he wanted to look over Brother Genitivi's research for more clues as to where to find the village of Haven. It wasn't on any maps so they were going to have a difficult time getting there. He sat outside his tent, pouring over the journals to distract himself. It wasn't until dinnertime that he set them down and joined the others by the fire. Leliana had made vegetable soup, much more appetizing than anything Alistair ever made he had to admit.

He found himself sitting next to Zevran, whom everyone was still wary of, though the assassin didn't seem to mind much.

Niko was of two minds about the other elf. Right now, as he swallowed down his dinner, he wondered if he'd be able to notice the signs of poisoning… and if it would even matter now that he was halfway through his meal. On the other hand, Niko believed Zevran was sincere about his oath and wanted to accept him among the group. As much as Niko liked the others, he figured it would be nice to have another elf around. At least he thought so. He didn't imagine they would have much in common beyond their race really. But Niko was intrigued with their newest recruit. Sitting next to him, he found himself studying the tattooed lines of Zevran's face and the way the light of the campfire danced across his dark skin.

Zevran suddenly turned to meet his gaze with a playful smile, perfectly aware that he was being watched. And Niko didn't feel embarrassed enough to look away.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Okay," Zevran agreed, smirking. "But I get to stare at you luridly while you do so."

Niko wasn't all that surprised to see that Zevran held to that claim, finding himself getting drawn in by the Antivan's striking gaze.

"Why did you want to leave the Crows exactly?" he asked, quietly, finally turning his eyes back to the fire to watch the flames spit embers at the ground.

"Well now, I imagine that is a very fair question," Zevran said, leaning back casually. "Being an assassin after all is a living, at least as far as such things go. I was simply never given the opportunity to choose another way." He looked to Niko. "So if that choice presents itself, why should I not seize upon it?"

"But what would you rather do?"

"Hmm. Now that you mention it, I am not entirely certain." He looked to his empty dinner bowl for a moment, as if contemplating the state of its emptiness, and then set it aside to give Niko his full attention. "I was but a boy of 7 when I was purchased, for 3 sovereigns I'm told. Which is a good price considering I was all ribs and bone and didn't know the pommel of dagger from the pointy end." He smirked a little. "The Crows buy all their assassins that way. Buy them young, raise them to know nothing else but murder. And if you do poorly in your training, you die."

Niko grimaced. "That's… kind of awful."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Zevran said airily. "The Crows who were actually good enough to survive come to enjoy some of the _benefits_. In Antiva, being a Crow gets you respect. It gets you wealth. It gets you women… and men. Or whatever it is you fancy." He gave a little shrug, but his eyes were trained on Niko, as if gaging his reaction. "But that does mean doing what is expected of you always. And it means being expendable. It's a cage, if a gilded cage. Pretty, but confining."

"Hm," Niko smiled, feeling a bit less tense now. When something really got to him, he tended to withdraw even though what he really needed was someone to talk to. Shianni had often scolded him for such things. He turned his gaze heavenward, watching the flickering edges of the bonfire reach for the bright stars and depths of night. "So what is it you fancy, exactly?" he asked Zevran, for the sake of appeasing his curiosity.

"I fancy many things," Zevran said. He followed Niko's gaze to the dark skies for the moment, admiring the constellations amid dusky clouds. "I fancy things that are beautiful and things that are strong. I fancy things that are dangerous and exciting…" He paused and turned his glittering eyes toward the other elf. "Would you be offended if I said I fancied you?"

Niko's gaze snapped back to the Antivan, eyes widening marginally in surprise. "I…. No. Not at all."

"This is good to know," Zevran laughed, a playful glint in his eyes. "And may I ask what it is that _you_ fancy?"

Niko shrugged and laid back on the ground to stare up at the star-dappled sky. "I like when people surprise me. When they exceed my expectations and their own. When they do things they never thought they could." He closed his eyes and smirked. "I like a good bottle of mead, too."

Zevran chuckled softly in appreciation. "And I like a nicely-aged bottle of Antivan brandy, quite rare around these parts I should think." He sighed. "As for what I'll do in the future, presuming that there is one, I truly can't imagine. It might be interesting to go into business for myself, for a change… far away from Antiva, of course. For now, naturally, I go where you go."

Niko opened his eyes and smiled at him. "Well I'm happy to have you along."

_'As long as he doesn't try to kill any of us again.'_ But he kept that thought to himself.

"And here I am, happy to be had," Zevran said with a grin. "Isn't it wonderful how things work out that way? Come now, enough chitchat." He picked up both of their bowls and stood, prompting Niko to sit up. "Talking about the crows summons them, you know. Any Antivan fishwife could tell you so."

Zevran took the bowls over to where Wynne and Alistair were washing dishes and offered his assistance.

Niko cocked his head as he watched Zevran, suddenly wondering how the other elf had managed to lift his spirits so easily.

It was a surprise, indeed.


	8. Boots and Bonfires

**Author's Note:** I wrote a lot of the Antivan boots scene while I was camping. It was really nice getting closer to the setting, sleeping alone in a tent in the woods and typing it up on my netbook... Well the sleeping in the tent part was accurate anyway.

Lots of "guy talk" towards the end between Alistair, Zevran, and Niko. It's mostly party banter from the game.

Thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following. That's super awesome of you and it makes me smile! :-]

**Chapter Rating:** T

**Pairing:** Zevran/(M)Tabris

**Disclaimer:** I just realized I should probably have this, right? So yeah, I do not own Dragon Age or any characters besides Niko, nor am I making a profit from writing about it.

* * *

**Chapter 8**

Boots and Bonfires

Niko cursed under his breath as he fumbled with the kindling, struggling to catch a spark with the rocks to get the fire going. It was quite chilly outside the village of Haven, and they would all appreciate the warmth of their usual camp fire.

Looking down at his hands, he noticed a slight quiver and it wasn't from the cold.

But who wouldn't be shaken after all they'd been through today?

They spoke to holy spirits, battled _themselves_, walked through fire, and killed a bloody high dragon! And what was it all for?

The ashes of a dead woman.

He'd agreed with Sten to a point. They were going far out of their way, with the value of the trip hinging on the pious faith of others.

Niko looked to the leather pouch still fastened to his belt. He supposed after everything they'd seen he'd have to be pretty stubborn not to believe in the power of the ashes now.

Still, that wasn't what was getting to him. This wasn't a crisis of faith.

He closed his eyes, seeing Shianni's face until he willed his mind into a state of blankness.

He was just so damn tired.

"Would you like a hand with that, my dear Warden?"

Niko blinked his eyes open and turned his gaze up at the Antivan.

Zevran didn't wait for a response, simply kneeling down next to him and taking over. Niko watched in silence as the other elf soon caught a spark and got a blaze going. He looked at the dancing flames, and for some reason it reminded him of his father back home. He thought back to the day of his almost-wedding, waking up to his cousin's ale-breath and his father setting more logs in the fire.

"And what makes that handsome face so tense tonight?" Zevran's voice broke him out of his thoughts.

Niko looked to him, meeting his eyes without expression. "We fought a dragon, Zevran."

"That we did; and a marvelous beast she was," Zevran mused. He was silent for a moment, his eyes narrowing in scrutiny as he glanced over the elven Grey Warden. "Sten.. roughed you up a bit before that as well," he added, his voice dropping to a sour note, as if the thought of it bothered him. Indeed, Niko had caught a glimpse of Zevran during his fist fight with Sten, and the assassin had sort of looked like he wanted to jump in.

Niko's shoulder was still sore; first from Sten's fist and then from being tossed into a rock by the dragon's heavy tail. And that was just the one injury.

"I think he and I are on good terms now though," Niko replied, glancing to where Sten stood, a few feet away from the group as usual. "Better actually."

"Well you did win that little tussle I might add," Zevran smirked at him, a bit of admiration in his eyes. "Certainly he has a proper level of respect for our mighty leader now, yes?"

Niko forced a small smile. Sten may have backed down, but he was sure the Qunari wouldn't have if he'd realized how close Niko had been to keeling over. He was fast and a vicious fighter, yes, but Sten's fist was the size of Niko's head. It was just a good thing the city-born elf was too stubborn to show any weakness in front of the group.

The way Zevran was looking at him now though, he wasn't sure he was doing a good job of that anymore.

"My point is, however, that you seem so very stressed," Zevran went on. "Just looking at you now makes me want to strip you down and give you a hot bath," he added, his tone lowering suggestively.

Niko's lips turned into a smirk, and he refused to meet Zevran's eyes for a moment, gazing at the growing bonfire instead. When he did turn to look at the other elf, he remembered something.

…Two things actually. Zevran had been there, along with Alistair, Leliana, and Niko for the Gauntlet. They'd all had their deepest insecurities uprooted and dumped in front of everyone by the Guardian.

Unsurprisingly, Alistair still felt guilty about not being with Duncan on the battlefield when he died. He and Niko had spoken of this before; and no matter how he consoled the warrior, it seemed he'd always feel regret over Ostagar. Over Duncan.

Niko understood very well, though. His own guilt, laid bare before his teammates, was for Shianni. Alistair told him he was too hard on himself (damn hypocrite), but of course it didn't help. Shianni was his family, his responsibility. And he hadn't been able to help her in time. He'd never be okay with that. And the fact remained that only _his_ regret had become visual; whatever magic existed in that temple somehow looked into his memory to recreate Shianni's image and voice. While it had been good to see her, even in this spectral form, Niko had not liked that his cousin was being violated in this way. Maybe it was Niko's deepest regret, but it was still Shianni's secret to keep or share, not _his_.

And the amulet she'd handed him - now tucked safely away in his bedroll - disturbed him. The front had an ancient Chantry symbol on it, but the back was silver and mirrored. The first time he looked at it, Niko swore he caught a glimpse of his cousin's smile. But it vanished so quickly, like something seen in the corner of the eye one moment and gone the next. And every time he looked at it since then, it seemed an ordinary silver backing.

Still, despite the unsettling feeling the whole trial had left him with, he looked back on the moment with some hope. Hope for their mission, hope for Ferelden, and hope for his family locked up back in the Alienage.

He wasn't quite sure what the others had taken from it. Leliana had been rather annoyed when the Guardian suggested her vision was a ploy for attention, and she angrily denied it. Only Zevran had angrily cut the spirit off before anything telling could slip, and Niko had been surprised by the other elf's response of vehemence and distress. All he understood of Zevran's apparent regret though was that it involved a woman he'd killed.

He seemed okay now though, back to being all smirks and innuendo, somehow making Niko feel so much lighter. Like he didn't have the fate of a nation riding on his shoulders.

He didn't want to dig in to Zevran's secrets right now. Didn't want that light feeling to go away. So he didn't mention it. There were better things to discuss anyway.

"I almost forgot," Niko said, and Zevran's flirtatious look turned curious as he watched the Warden stand up. "I have something for you."

"Something for me?" Zevran asked, delight and surprise in his voice. Niko went over to his tent and reached in while Zevran followed him over. The Warden stood to face the other elf, handing over an exquisite pair of soft leather boots.

"I found these in Haven. I remembered you said about wanting a pair of Antivan boots before, and I think these are…" Niko trailed off, staring at Zevran.

_Maker, that smile..._

"Mmm that smell! That _is_ Antivan leather," he confirmed. "I would know that anywhere!"

"Well, try them on," Niko insisted.

Zevran took a seat in front of the tent and Niko sat next to him. "Can you smell that?" Zevran asked and moved one boot a little closer to Niko's face. He smirked in amusement and nodded, then watched as Zevran took a strong whiff himself. "Like rotting flesh. Just like back in Antiva city," he commented and began removing his old boots as he went on. "Now if only you could find me a prostitute or two, a bowl of fish chowder and a corrupt politician, I'd really feel like I was home!" He gave a laugh and started lacing up the new boots. "And they fit as well. Marvelous!"

He admired the boots on his feet for a moment and turned to look at Niko, who'd been sitting there, watching the elf with a soft smile. He realized he had been caught staring once again and glanced away quickly while Zevran smirked at him.

"I suppose I will have to think of a way to show my thanks," the Antivan said, his tone unmistakably sultry.

Niko, who was no stranger to flirting, smirked back at him and stood. "I suppose you will."

Zevran grinned and took Niko's hand-up when it was offered. They lingered for a moment, maintaining the contact longer than was necessary.

Zevran's grin faded to a teasing smile and shook his head. "But now you've gone and distracted me once again," he chastised. And when he met Niko's eyes again he was completely serious. "I wanted to ask if you are alright."

"I… I am." He glanced away. "It was just- …seeing Shianni there. I can't-…"

Shianni's voice echoed in his mind… The question posed by the specter…

_Do you remember us, where you came from, and what some of us still face every day?_

He lifted his gaze to see the assassin's trained neutral expression, though there was a glimmer of encouragement in those amber irises.

"The purge is _my fault_. I'm the one that killed the Arl's son."

"I was of the understanding you were not given much of a choice in the situation," Zevran pointed out. "Is that not true?"

Niko nodded. Zevran knew some of what had happened. Everyone in camp had been told the gist of it, either by Niko himself or they'd heard it through the camp gossip. They all knew he'd lived in the Denerim Alienage and that he'd killed a noble for kidnapping and "hurting" his cousin. They all knew the only reason their leader wasn't rotting in jail was because Duncan had been there to conscript him. None of them knew about the arranged wedding, or the bridal party, or Soris' involvement. And Niko knew that Zevran wouldn't understand this. Self-flagellation, that's what he'd called it before. But here he was, offering an ear, at the very least. And for some reason, Niko found himself taking advantage of it.

"I know I didn't have a better option, and I'd do it again. But I just wish I could be with them now… Wish I could protect them somehow."

"Are you not already protecting them?" Zevran challenged. "This Blight, it threatens your family and your home too, does it not?"

Niko quieted. Zevran was right; he knew he was right. But that wasn't it. Beating back the darkspawn would mean nothing to his family if they were already dead.

"…..My cousin, Soris, lost his parents in the last purge, 20 years ago," Niko told as his tone darkened. "The humans set their house on fire and pushed his mother back inside when she tried to escape… I don't know what's being done to my family now. And I'm not sure they'd thank for me for leaving when the punishment for my crime has fallen to them."

Zevran shook his head. "Your friend Alistair was right, you are much too hard on yourself."

Niko turned to meet Zevran's eyes, thinking about what the Guardian had revealed about _him_; the woman Zevran regretted killing. He wondered if Zevran would be as reluctant to unshoulder the self-blame if it were his life they were talking about instead.

"We all have something we feel guilty about," he said with a shrug.

Zevran sighed. "Quite right."

"Thank you, though," Niko said suddenly, and it caught Zevran off guard. "Thank you for listening."

Zevran smiled. "For you, my dear Warden, I am all ears."

Niko couldn't help but laugh. That joke wasn't supposed to be as funny amongst elves, as it was a shemlen joke about their ears, but it seemed Zevran could always make him smile.

-o-o-o-

The Frostback Mountains were bloody freezing and it took many days of hiking through the rough crags and peaks to get back to the Imperial Highway.

They were finally in the lowlands again, skirting around Lake Calenhad, the deep sapphire of the mysterious water observable from the high stone road they traveled on. At last, the sweltering heat of summer was relinquishing its persistent embrace of the land. The air was no longer heavy with humidity, and some of the trees were just beginning to change, a few of their green leaves turning to warmer shades of burnt-orange and marigold. The nights in camp were a bit colder now, but it was nothing compared to sleeping in the snow-capped Frostbacks.

While Morrigan and Wynne argued about the Circle of Magi and cooked the rabbits that had been caught and skinned for dinner, Leliana was singing quietly while sewing one of her shirts, and Sten was pretending not to listen to her as he stood watch.

Zevran, Niko, and Alistair were sitting near the tents, sharpening blades with whetstones. Niko had stopped when Gideon lumbered over and plopped his upper body in to his lap. For now Niko just chatted with the other two, while scratching behind the wardog's ears. They managed to keep up a stream of friendly banter, despite Alistair's lingering wariness of the Antivan assassin.

"So Zevran," Alistair started. "The stories we hear down here about the Crows… they're not true, are they? They all sound a little far-fetched."

"I cannot say. What have you heard?" Zevran inquired, glancing up from his task to look at Alistair. "In Antiva, we hear that Ferelden men cannot sleep without a dog in their bed. Is that true?"

"A dog? No, of course not…" He trailed off, and both men were suddenly looking at Niko, whose mabari was resting half on top of his legs.

Niko's eyebrows rose. "What? He doesn't sleep in my tent _every_ night."

Zevran gave a teasing smirk and Alistair chuckled as he went on. "We value our dogs. It's part of our history."

"Oh," Zevran nodded astutely. "Perhaps it was a reference to your Ferelden women, then?"

Alistair and Niko both chuckled at that.

"But those stories you heard?" Zevran prompted. "All true."

"Really?" Alistair quirked a doubtful eyebrow at him. "Even the ones that talk about how you all… you know… get paid to…"

"Especially those ones."

"Wow," Alistair frowned. "I'm totally in the wrong Order."

"Hey Alistair," Niko started curiously, almost hesitant. "If you were raised in the Chantry, have you never…?"

"Never…? Never what?" He raised an eyebrow at the other Warden and smirked. "Never had a good pair of shoes?"

Niko rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Not sure I do," Alistair continued, and Niko was _almost_ entirely sure Alistair was having him on. "Never seen a basilisk? Ate jellied ham? Have I never licked a lamppost in winter?"

Niko smiled shook his head. "Now you're making fun of me."

"Make fun of my comrade-in-arms?" Alistair teased, grinning. "Perish the thought."

"I believe your fellow Grey Warden means to ask if you have never had a sexual relationship, dear Alistair," Zevran pointed out, quite jovial about it actually. "I must admit, I am a bit curious myself."

"Well you tell me first," Alistair said, and when Zevran went to open his mouth, Alistair cut him off. "Not you. I've heard you brag plenty about your _adventures_." Zevran smiled and shrugged, and Alistair fixed Niko with a mischievous, yet inquisitive look. "So? Have _you_ ever licked a lamppost in the winter?"

Niko smirked and shook his head. "We're going with that analogy, are we? Sure… There was this one particular lamppost I licked whenever I got the chance."

"Hm," Alistair frowned. "That's a disturbing mental image you've conjured for me right there."

"Disturbing?" Zevran balked, evidently in disagreement. "On the contrary. I require more _details_ to complete this wondrous mental imagery." He turned to Niko with an almost conspiring look. "Tell me, what did this _lamppost_ look like, hm?"

"Tall, dark-hair, muscular." Niko shrugged. "He's a city guard in Denerim. One of the better ones."

"Really?" Alistair and Zevran responded in unison; Alistair being genuinely surprised and Zevran just ever more curious.

"Unfortunately, we got caught and he ended it, afraid he'd get into trouble." Niko shrugged again. "Fun while it lasted though."

"I had no idea you were interested in men," Alistair commented, though he didn't sound put-off.

"Well I tried it with a woman once," Niko added. "One of the girls I knew who worked at the brothel… W-what? I didn't pay her," he clarified when Alistair's eyes widened almost comically. "She lived in the Alienage. It wasn't during her working hours. It was her idea. Stop looking at me like that." Alistair and Zevran started snickering when Niko blushed. "Anyway, it just wasn't for me. Now what about you?" he asked, directing the attention back to Alistair.

"Oh… Well… I, myself, have never had the pleasure," Alistair answered awkwardly. "Not that I haven't thought about it, of course, but… you know."

"You… lack the proper parts?" Niko suggested with a grin, just to get back at Alistair for laughing at him.

"Oh that's funny. You're cruel japes will be remembered, ser," Alistair replied with mock hurt. "If you hear sobbing later, that's me crying myself to sleep."

"I'm sorry," Niko countered. "Would you like Gideon to come sleep with you tonight?"

The mabari hound lifted his head from his master's lap at the mention of his name, and his stub of a tail started wagging.

The three of them laughed, making the dog cock his head at them in confusion.

"Or _I_ could join you in your tent, Alistair," Zevran offered teasingly, "If you prefer."

"Oh no. No. I've had enough of this conversation." Alistair shook his head and stood up. "Who's ready for dinner? I'm ready for dinner. Ooh look, I have cheese!"


	9. A Night at the Castle

**Author's Note:** Things get a bit steamier in this chapter between Zev and Niko. ;-] This one is a bit short, but the next chapter is much longer.

Thanks so much to everyone reading and reviewing! It makes my day!

**Chapter Rating:** T

**Pairing:** Zevran/(M)Tabris

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragon Age or the characters They belong to Bioware. I'm not making any money off this either (duh).

* * *

**Chapter 9**

A Night at the Castle

The next day, they arrived at Redcliffe castle by late morning.

Despite their faith being the force that drove the party to the Urn of Sacred Ashes in the first place, Bann Teagan and Lady Isolde could scarcely believe the team had actually found it.

However, whether or not the pinch of ashes would actually heal the Arl remained to be seen. The man had been holding on for some time, with Circle mages working around the hour just to keep him breathing. Lying still in his ornate bed, Arl Eamon was sickly pale and covered in a layer of sweat. Lady Isolde stayed at his side, wiping his brow with a wet rag, doing any small thing she could to keep herself together.

Several minutes had passed after administering the ashes. Or at least it seemed that long. Every second that stretched on stole a bit more of everyone's hope. They all seemed to feel it when it happened though; when the ashes worked their promised miracle. The Arl's eyes opened, straining to see his younger brother and his wife, who broke into tears of relief.

The man was confused, of course. He'd missed much, and no one was eager to fill him in on what had happened to his village while he was unconscious.

Niko and Alistair left him to recuperate with his family, who would inform him of what had passed.

When the Arl emerged to join them in the throne room, he looked so remarkably better that Alistair and Niko stared in awe.

Grateful for his life, and the preservation of his family and village, Arl Eamon was moved to grant Niko and his companions the title of "Champions of Redcliffe".

As he laid awake in one of the cozy guest chambers that night, Niko wondered how many elves, if any, had been granted such a position in Ferelden before. He'd certainly never heard of any elven Champions, but then he'd never heard of Garahel, the Archdemon-conquering Grey Warden before either.

He also couldn't help but think of Alim back at the Circle Tower.

Arl Eamon had called for Niko's opinion on the matter of Jowan's fate. Jowan, though a traitor to the Arl of Redcliffe, had seemed earnest in his desire to help.

Niko was surprised when his recommendation to send Jowan back to the Circle of Magi had been accepted. He only hoped it was a suggestion Alim would have approved of. Surely Jowan would be made Tranquil for all he'd done since escaping the Tower. And Niko had met enough Tranquil mages to question whether the emotionless condition was actually a fate better than death. It had seemed the only fair choice though. He certainly wasn't going to advocate for the mage's execution.

He sighed and sat up on the expensive coverlet. Gideon looked up at him from where he was sitting on the soft decorative rug in the middle of the room. He'd tried jumping up on the bed with Niko earlier, but the elf wasn't sure if it would be in bad decorum to have his smelly hound on the bedspread. So he'd directed Gideon to stay off the furniture, and the mabari obeyed, though with a disappointed whine that nearly had Niko calling him back up on the bed.

Morrigan was probably right; the dog really was manipulating him.

He couldn't help but let his mind wander to Alistair either. After the party had been fed a hearty feast in the castle dining room, the Arl sat down with Alistair, Niko, and Bann Teagan to discuss how to make their next move.

They had two threats to contend with; Loghain and the Archdemon.

When Loghain had returned from Ostagar with his full army, he'd announced King Cailan's death, declared himself Regent to the throne, and accused the Grey Wardens of treason. Not all of the nobility had responded positively to his actions, and it seemed civil war was upon Ferelden. That much had been clear to Alistair and Niko when they responded to the Chantry Board posting they found in Denerim. They'd travelled into the pastures of the bannorn just in time to intercept Loghain's troops as they attempted a forced invasion of Bann Telmen's land.

Arl Eamon's most viable proposition was to call for a Landsmeet of the Bannorn and put forth a stronger candidate for the throne. His suggestion for King was not himself, Bann Teagan, or any other noble, but Alistair. Of course Alistair had been less than thrilled. Niko wasn't surprised. He'd known his friend didn't want to be King even before he'd openly objected to the plan. They had no other choice though. Arl Eamon and Bann Teagan would be accepted no more eagerly among the Banns than Loghain. Even if he was Maric's bastard child, Alistair still had royal blood and would be seriously considered because of it. That was the plan anyway. The only alternative would be to accept Loghain's rule so they could avoid civil war and save their numbers for the darkspawn incursion. And no one wanted that.

As for the Blight, they were to carry on as they'd been. They already had the Circle of Magi's aid. There were Grey Warden treaties obliging the Dwarves of Orzammar and the Dalish elves to send aid as well. Niko and his companions just had to seek them out.

Easier said than done.

Niko stood from his bed and sat down to a small table with his pack. He rifled through and pulled out his map, setting it down flat on the tabletop next to a small candle.

His mind was too busy for him to fall asleep, though it was still a bit early yet anyway. Smoothing out the rumpled paper, Niko's eyes landed on Redcliffe, and he followed a short line southward from there to find the little X he'd marked recently.

When they'd gotten out of the Frostback mountains, they'd stumbled into the Ferelden half of Sulcher's Pass, a rocky, dangerous route where Alistair had nearly broken his ankle. There, a merchant with a funny name had been eager to get rid of a golem control rod he had. Niko didn't know a thing about golems, but he was assured they were big, and strong, and especially useful in a battle. The catch was, though, that the golem was stationed elsewhere; a little village south of Redcliffe called Honnleath.

He decided he could take a few of his teammates out first thing in the morning to go activate the golem. It was worth checking out, at least, and hardly out of their way. He traced his finger over the road heading northeast from Redcliffe and stopped at Lake Calenhad, tapping that spot on the map.

Ever since that fist fight in Haven with Sten, the Qunari seemed to be "warming" to Niko. Just a little. When the Grey Warden returned from the battle with the high dragon, Sten came up and confessed that Niko wasn't as callow as he'd thought. A bit of a backhanded compliment, but he took it. When they had neared Redcliffe, they came across a dwarven merchant on the road, and Niko bought a painting from him. It got his attention because it depicted the Rebel Queen of Ferelden during the Orlesian occupation, who was, of course, also Alistair's grandmother. He'd bought it to show Alistair, who was quite certain the artist had gotten Queen Moira's hair color wrong. Sten had actually been more impressed with it, and admitted to having an appreciation for paintings. Niko gifted him with the artwork, which had gotten a small smile out of the Qunari.

Though their conversations were still sometimes awkward and stilted, their relationship was definitely better. Sten had even opened up about the murders he committed in Lothering. Apparently he'd come to Ferelden with other Qunari warriors to find out what the Blight was. They were overwhelmed by darkspawn, an experience Niko could relate to. Sten had woken up in the company of the farmers that saved him, but without his greatsword. Sten had snapped on his rescuers because he was shamed over his missing sword and would never be allowed back home without it. It was as strange as all the Qunari customs Niko had learned about, but it was an important one.

It didn't excuse what Sten had done, but he was trying to seek redemption at least. He'd said the darkspawn had attacked him near Lake Calenhad. It was a bit of a long shot, but Niko decided they could at least check there to see if the sword remained. It wasn't out of the way; it just meant they would be taking the northern road toward the Brecilian Forest instead of the southern route. That's where they would look for the Dalish elves.

Niko gave the map one last lingering look before rolling it back up to put in his pack. He stood, blew out the candle, and went over to Gideon, patting the dog on the head and telling him to stay before slipping out of the room.

The halls were empty, making a good place for a quiet walk. The doors to his companions' guest quarters were all closed and he assumed most of them would be asleep. Only Alistair's door was ajar, with no one inside. Niko turned from the open doorway and was startled to find Zevran leaning against the wall at the end of the hall.

He'd mostly hidden his surprise, but Zevran had still caught the tiny flinch. He smirked and pushed off the wall, walking towards Niko. "Ah, I apologize, my dear Warden. I did not mean to alarm you."

"I'm fine." Niko shook his head and looked at Zevran, who continued his approach until there was less than a foot of space between them. "What are you doing up?"

Zevran shrugged innocently. "I noticed my good friend Alistair was wandering about the castle, and I simply wanted to be certain that there would be no attempts on his life here," he answered with a small smirk.

Niko raised an eyebrow at him. "You're Alistair's body guard now? Friends too?"

"Hm, surely you are too clever for me," Zevran teased. "Okay, I admit, I was spying on a conversation in the study between our dear Alistair and the Arl."

"They're talking?" Niko asked. "About what?"

"Nothing to be concerned with, of course," Zevran reassured as he put a hand on Niko's back to guide him down the hall again. "They are having a special bonding moment. Rather boring actually. No fun to eavesdrop on, I assure you."

Niko huffed a laugh and shook his head. "You're a menace."

"Mm, perhaps you'd better lock me away then," Zevran suggested with a wink.

Niko glanced to the side to see that Zevran had led them to the door on the end. Niko's guest chambers.

He felt the hand on his back lowering slowly.

Smirking, he turned to face the assassin, who happily settled both of his hands on Niko's waist then.

"Well I have a room to keep you in," Niko spoke softly, clutching Zevran's biceps and stroking the hard muscle. "But I hope you don't mind the big, slobbering warhound that's in there too."

"You Ferelden men and your dogs," Zevran chastised, his hot breath tickling the other elf's neck as he nuzzled Niko's jaw. "Why not let someone else warm your bed tonight, hm?"

He grinned at this and pulled back a little to look at Zevran, his amber eyes trained so intently on Niko, it felt like the Antivan was putting him under a spell.

Only it wasn't a spell at all, it was pure lust and attraction. They both felt it; a heated, magnetic draw between them, snuffing out all other sensations. And the soft layers of expensive leisure-wear they'd been gifted with during their stay were thin but effectively restrictive barriers between their burning skin, both so eager to touch, and grab, and kiss.

Whatever witty reply Niko had been preparing had already escaped him. His green eyes stayed locked on Zevran's, and his palms moved up to smooth over the silky crimson fabric of Zevran's new tunic. He could feel the firmness of the assassin's chest and the steady beat of his heart underneath.

Zevran flashed a pearly-white smile and chuckled softly as Niko's eyes strayed to his lips. He took a few steps closer until the Grey Warden's back was pressed flat against the wall.

Niko bit his lip against a moan when Zevran brought their bodies together, now standing chest-to-chest in the corridor. Zevran left several sharp nips along Niko's neck before kissing his way up the Warden's jawline.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Niko's hands flew up to Zevran's face and pulled him into rough, open-mouthed kiss. Zevran's grip on the Warden's waist tightened and pulled him hard against him. They both released low moans into each other's mouths, and Zevran grasped the other elf's face to change the angle of their lips so he could dip his tongue inside to press against Niko's. Both of them desperately breathed in much-needed air through their noses, their mouths otherwise occupied. They took their time, tongues coming together languidly and gliding behind teeth until Zevran opened the top buttons of Niko's fancy, indigo shirt and pressed his wet lips to the other elf's collarbone.

Niko was incensed, eyes shut tight, head dipping back against the wall as his fingers became entangled in Zevran's blond hair. He opened his mouth in a silent moan as he felt Zevran's teeth scrape the tender flesh of his neck. The Antivan's hands were sliding low, just about to touch the curve of Niko's ass, when they heard two pairs of heavy footsteps echoing down the hall towards them.

They both withdrew from each other just in time to see Alistair and the Arl turn the corner into their hallway.

"Oh," Alistair said, stopping outside his own borrowed bedroom and regarding the two elves with a raise of his brow. "I thought everyone would be asleep by now."

While Niko opened and closed his mouth several times, unable to respond, Zevran smiled easily and placed a companionable hand on Niko's shoulder. "How could we sleep knowing the future King of Ferelden is not safe in his bed chambers, hm?"

Alistair grimaced. "Right. Of course," he responded sourly. "Well I'm going to bed now."

"Have you found the accommodations suitable?" the Arl asked them.

"Yes," Niko answered, finally able to form words. "This is the nicest room I've ever stayed in."

They were actually the same rooms they'd stayed in the last time they were at the castle, after they'd saved Conner, but the Arl didn't know that.

"If you need anything, please let one of the servants…" he trailed off, probably remembering that many of his servants had been mutilated and/or killed while he'd been comatose. Aside from the slip, he kept himself composed though. "Well, please let me know if you need anything at all."

He turned to leave and Alistair hesitated at his door. He looked to the two elves, and Niko tried not to think about the fact that the top three buttons of his shirt were undone and Zevran's hair was a bit tangled. And he didn't dare check to see if there were bite marks on his skin. Hopefully Alistair would just be oblivious if they didn't bring attention to these things.

"Have you decided where we're going tomorrow?" the warrior asked Niko.

"Uh, yes I have," he replied, clearing his throat. "We'll head east to the Brecilian forest. But first, you, Wynne, Zevran, and I are going to Honnleath to see about that golem the merchant told us about."

"Guess we'll be up bright and early then?" Alistair said. "Better get some sleep."

"Quite right," Zevran agreed, catching Niko's eye with a quick glance before heading to his own room. "I look forward to seeing your smiling faces first thing tomorrow!" He laughed as Alistair and Niko watch his retreating form.

"Sure you do," Alistair mumbled, shaking his head. He glanced to Niko before slipping into his room. "Well good night."

"Night," Niko replied, monotonously. He walked in and shut the bedroom door behind him, staring at the far wall for a moment. The once cozy room now felt cold and empty. He walked back to his bed and threw himself face down on the covers.

Gideon stood to all fours and yawned. He trod over and jumped up to lay down on the other side of the bed.

Niko frowned, but left the hound sleep where he wanted. He didn't care about the consequences of having the dog on the extravagant duvet anymore, especially since Arl Eamon had been one half of that royal cock-blocking party.

Niko sighed and rolled over onto his back. He glanced to the closed door, half-expecting to see Zevran sneak in, but he knew it wouldn't happen. The look Zevran had given him before he walked away said they would address this later. The mood had been ruined when they were interrupted, and they actually did need to get some rest for tomorrow. Niko couldn't even remember the last he'd slept a full night and woke up feeling refreshed. Sometime before his horrific wedding day, that was for sure.


	10. A Rock and a Hard Place

**Author's Note:** WARNING! SMUT AHEAD. There is sexual content in this chapter. So if you do not want to risk stumbling upon it, I advise just skipping everything after Shale's appearance.

**Chapter Rating:** M

**Pairing:** Zevran/(M)Tabris

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragon Age or associated characters.

* * *

**Chapter 10**

A Rock and a Hard Place

The village had been overrun with darkspawn when the party arrived, greeted by corpses strung up at the entrance.

In the midst of the massacre, a peculiar stone statue stood alone in the middle of the village, and Wynne informed them that this was the golem they were searching for. It stood in an aggressive pose, great hulking arms thrown in the air, head tilted back - in a ferocious roar perhaps. Chipped blue crystals were embedded in the shoulders and glowing markings were etched into its stone body. It looked quite bizarre, and probably magical. The password they were given by the merchant did not work however. The statue didn't move.

Niko shrugged and decided they should check for survivors.

Throughout it all, he couldn't stop letting his eyes wander to Zevran. They hadn't spoken much since last night, only a few words of exchange over an early breakfast at the castle. And every time the other elf stood near him, Niko felt heat rise to his ears as he was reminded of how close they'd been the night before; of Zevran's tongue in his mouth and their bodies pressed together.

Nothing was _wrong_ really, it just felt like there were unfinished matters between them. Some sort of tension that they had no time – or privacy – to iron out.

Upon venturing into one of the village cellars, they found a few frightened people behind some kind of magical barrier, the only protection between them and the darkspawn.

Matthias was the name of one of the trapped villagers, son of the mage who used to own the statue in fact. In exchange for rescuing his daughter, who had ran off further into the cellar, Matthias gave them the correct password to activate the golem… though with a warning. He claimed the golem had long ago killed its former master, Matthias' father, Wilhelm. Broken every bone in his body.

Though Wynne and Alistair had reservations about waking the golem after learning that bit of information, Niko decided to give it a try. They already had plenty of other murderers in their group, as Zevran (ironically) pointed out.

Feeling a little silly, Niko stepped forward and, once again, held up the control rod before speaking the password. "Dulen harn."

The first difference Niko noticed was the dirt crumbling out of the statue's elbows where the joints seemed to be trying to move. Then the neck trembled and the arms jerked, all accompanied by the grinding, crunching sound of shifting stone.

Niko couldn't help but wonder what weapon would work best to subdue this creature if they needed to.

Probably a maul… None of them had a maul…

They all took a step back as the statue seemed to acquire full mobility, shaking off the last of the loose rocks and dirt and turning its face to them.

"I knew that the day would come when someone would find the control rod," were the first words out of the golem's stone mouth.

In truth, when they found the stone statue, Niko hadn't expected it to speak at all. The creature proved rather sapient though as it went on.

"I stood here in this spot and watched the wretched villagers scurry around me for- oh, I have no idea how long. Many, many years," the golem informed them, some annoyance marking its otherwise dry voice.

"And the villagers had no idea they were being watched?" Alistair mused. "_Creepy_."

"Tell me," the golem prompted. "Are all the villagers dead?"

"Not all of them, no," Niko answered.

"Some got away then? How unfortunate."

Niko frowned. "Did you watch the attack?"

"Not as much as it would think," the golem answered. "There was running and screaming… and then days and days of watching the darkspawn prowl around. I would never have thought there could be something _less_ interesting than the villagers, but there it was." The statue's eyes, which were nothing but glowing blue lights, seemed to turn to the brassy control rod in Niko's hand. "Well go on then, out with it," the golem said. "What is its command?"

"Why are you calling me 'it'?" Niko asked.

"Entrenched sense of perversity," the statue answered. "The last one to hold that damnable rod used to call me 'golem'." It spat the word out with vehemence, and then went on mockingly; "'Golem, fetch me that chair', 'do be a good golem and squash that insipid bandit', and let's not forget 'Golem, pick me up. I tire of walking!'" The statue paused, glowing eyes squinting at the Grey Warden. "It… does have the control rod, doesn't it? I am awake… so it… must."

"Is something wrong?" Niko asked because clearly the statue was perturbed. He was surprised someone made of stone could, in fact, be so expressive.

"I see the control rod," it said, staring at the object in the elf's hand. "Yet I feel…" The statue straightened and looked at Niko. "Go on. Order me to do something."

"Alright," he said, glancing around for some inspiration. His eyes landed on the source of his pent up lust, who had been uncharacteristically quiet today. "Go hug Zevran."

"Ah, I don't care much for foreign objects invading my personal space…" the elf interjected. He glanced to Niko, playfulness lightening his features. "Well usually."

Niko turned away, smiling to himself. He felt foolish for getting so cheerful over the little quip, but he'd been aching for some kind of acknowledgement of what had transpired between them last night.

"And… nothing…" the statue said, amazed. "I feel nothing. I feel no compulsion to carry out its command." The statue's brow seemed to rise, as if lifting eyebrows that weren't there. "I suppose this means the rod is… broken?"

_'Great,'_ Niko thought, suddenly feeling a little twitchy and ready to reach for his weapons. _'Just great. I released a stone giant that hates people.'_

"So what now?" he asked. "Go on a killing rampage?"

"Don't be ridiculous," the statue replied. "Well… I wouldn't mind killing the birds." It clenched its massive stone fists. "Those evil birds and their foul droppings! I could crush them all!"

Niko grimaced and glanced around, seeing his companions' expressions mostly mirrored his own.

"Hmm." The golem's body relaxed. "I suppose if I can't be commanded, this means… I have free will, yes? It is simply… what should I do?" The statue pondered. "I have no memories beyond watching this village for so long. I have no purpose… I find myself at a bit of a loss." The golem looked to Niko again. "What about _it_? It must have awoken me for some reason, no? What did it intend to do with me?"

"Mostly we kill darkspawn," Niko answered, giving the short version of his quest. "I was hoping you could help."

"The very creatures that destroyed this village," it responded. "The darkspawn are an evil that must be destroyed, it's true. Though not as evil as the birds… Damnable feathered-fiends!"

It seemed the golem had a bit of a complex.

"I suppose I have two options, do I not?" the statue continued. "Go with it or… go elsewhere? I… do not even know what lies beyond this village."

Niko crossed his arms, studying the golem. "Can I trust you? I mean, you killed your former master."

"Did I?" it sounded genuinely surprised, though not remorseful. Maybe even pleased by the fact. "I remember that I _had_ a former master. The mage with the furry brows who poked and prodded and barked orders. Did I kill him?" It paused in consideration before going on. "I hope I _did_ kill him. Perhaps the last order he barked was 'Golem! Stop crushing my head!' Ha!"

"I noticed you don't call _him_ 'it'," Niko pointed out.

"Yes," the golem replied dryly. "I'm just funny that way."

"Well," Niko sighed. "If you aren't interested in killing us then you're welcome to come with me."

"Aaare you certain you want to bring that… _thing_ with us?" Alistair asked, sounding like he disapproved. "It could be dangerous," he whispered. "And large."

Niko shrugged. "Large and dangerous sounds useful to me. Think of it as a portable battering ram."

"Good point," he conceded. "Better it than me anyhow."

"I will follow it about then… for now." The golem decided. "I am called Shale, by the way."

"I'm Niko," he introduced. "This is Alistair, Wynne, and Zevran."

They made their way back down the slopes of the village. Shale's footsteps were rather heavy and loud… and they also stopped when the group came to the hanging corpses at the bottom of the hill.

Just when Niko glanced back to see why he couldn't hear Shale anymore, he instead heard the frightened squawk of a chicken and a loud thud. Shale looked up at him and shrugged. The Warden didn't fail to notice the splatter of blood under the statue's feet.

On the way back to Redcliffe, they explained a few more details of their quest to Shale, who was unconcerned with the politics and was content as long as it got to crush the heads of darkspawn. It also remarked that they had a very slim chance of success in their undertakings.

Zevran was a little more talkative on the way. He kept asking Shale about what it was like to be a statue and wondering if it would rather be made of flesh. Shale, of course, found the notion utterly disgusting.

"Well that took you longer than we expected," Leliana commented when they returned to the castle.

She, Morrigan, and Sten were already packed and ready to leave.

"There was more trouble there than we expected," Niko answered.

"You were surprised?" Morrigan asked pointedly.

"Not really." It seemed there was always more trouble to be found no matter where they went. "Anyway, this is Shale," Niko said, gesturing to the statue. "Shale, this is Leliana, Morrigan, Sten, and Gideon," he said when the dog padded up to them, cocking his head at Shale.

The others seemed to be a bit confused as to why Niko was introducing them. But then Shale started talking.

"More squishy flesh creatures," the statue mused, unimpressed. Its eyes turned on Gideon and seemed to glare at him. "I'm watching you, dog. Do you know how many of your kind urinated on me in that village? And all I could do was stand there and watch, helpless. If I see one of those legs of yours lift in my direction – pow!" Shale threatened, slamming one heavy stone fist into an equally heavy palm for emphasis.

Gideon whined, and the others stared in shock.

"Oh it… it talks," Leliana stammered and smiled. "How interesting!"

"The control rod doesn't work, so Shale has free will," Niko explained. "But it has decided to join us anyway."

"We are glad to have you along, Shale," Leliana welcomed.

"Oh speak for yourself, woman," Morrigan snapped in annoyance. She then looked to Niko. "One of those mindless, Chantry-leashed mages sought you while you were away."

Wynne threw a nasty glare in Morrigan's direction, which she ignored.

"Uh… Oh, you mean one of the Tranquil?" Niko asked.

"Indeed," Morrigan grouched. "He is still in the courtyard, I believe."

"Alright."

As Niko turned for the castle courtyard, he could vaguely hear Sten asking what a golem is.

-o-o-o-

After speaking with the representative from the Circle of Magi about gathering resources, they set out on the road again. Niko wanted to travel close to Lake Calenhad in case they found any indication as to where Sten might have lost his sword. He wasn't quite sure what to look for though. Abnormally large corpses? Their equipment had probably been looted by now, but there may be a clue somewhere.

The party hadn't quite yet reached the docks when the sun began to set. The tents were hastily arranged while dinner was made. It was Alistair's turn to cook again and no one was looking forward to the grey mush he always prepared. If it weren't for the fact that the ex-Templar worked so diligently on the stews, serving them up with an eager smile, Niko would have thought he was making the bland meals on purpose just to get out of future cooking duty.

It wasn't until after supper that the elven Grey Warden was finally able to shrug off some of his armor; unbuckling belts, bracers, greaves, and the leather cuirass, which was a literal weight off of his chest. This left him in a pair of dark leather pants and a red sleeveless tunic.

He thought maybe he'd better clean off some of the darkspawn blood smeared across the leather pieces, but couldn't bring himself to do it. He'd been on his feet nonstop since early morning and there was nothing that sounded less appealing than more work.

There was something else nagging him in the back of his mind though; he was just too exhausted to chase after the niggling thought to figure it out. Rubbing his shoulder, he scanned the camp. He noticed their newest recruit, Shale, was off on the outskirts near the Dwarven merchant Bodahn and his son Sandal, who often liked to travel close to Niko and his companions for safety. He'd talked to Shale earlier to make sure the statue was settled in. He wasn't sure what exactly "settling in" would mean for a golem, but Shale did seem content enough.

Most of the others were getting ready to go to sleep. Niko was considering the option too when he heard someone approaching him.

"Tsk tsk tsk, look at you," Zevran said when Niko turned to look at him. "Your weary stance, the dark circles under your eyes. Poor man. All this constant walking has gotten to you." His voice lowered and a suggestive gleam lit his eyes. "Do you know what you need?"

Niko gave a tired smirk. "A horse?"

Zevran chuckled softly. "A little late for that, I should think." He half-smiled, an expression settling onto his face that was almost predatory, an assassin priming his target. His eyes trailed over the other elf in consideration before taking a deliberate step closer and catching Niko's inquisitive gaze. "My thought is this: we retire to your tent and I show you the sort of massage skills one only learns growing up in an Antivan whorehouse."

Niko's eyebrows raised at the suggestion, and suddenly he didn't feel so very tired anymore. "Are you suggesting what I think are?"

Zevran smiled knowingly and reached forward to idly play with the v-shaped collar of Niko's shirt. "If you mean to ask whether or not there might be more than a massage involved, allow me simply to say that you won't be disappointed with _any_ of the techniques I have picked up over the years." His tone had lowered to an unmistakably seductive level, each lilted word going straight to Niko's groin.

"Sounds good to me." The response came out of Niko's mouth before he even realized he was saying it. He was so preoccupied with the tingling of his skin, warmth creeping up his neck. All that pent up desire for the other elf was returning full force, and he realized that was the thought that had been chasing him.

"A willing victim it is," Zevran said, taking one more step forward to close the remaining distance, lust-tinged heat radiating between them. "And, if I may ask, should the opportunity to proceed past the massage present itself…?"

Niko gasped softly when he felt fingers caress his leather-clad hip.

Zevran was trying to make sure his intentions were as clear as possible. Which was understandable, even considering their heated kiss back at Redcliffe castle.

Niko wanted to be clear, too.

Holding Zevran's serene, amber gaze, he leaned in, and the assassin could feel the feather-light breath on his lips when Niko replied. "I'll leave it to you."

Zevran grinned and both of his tactful hands gripped Niko's waist to take them a step back towards the tent. "Then why are we still talking?"

-o-o-o-

Niko was surprised that a massage was involved at all really. When they entered the tent, Zevran produced a few small vials of assorted oils, choosing one before giving Niko a smirk and instructing him to lie on his stomach.

The Warden did so, removing his shirt first and setting it aside. He laid flat on his belly, resting his chin on arms crossed in front of him, and remained very still. Outside he could hear some rustling coming from another tent and Gideon digging at the ground, but he couldn't tell what Zevran was doing behind him.

A brief image of the assassin withdrawing a knife and slitting his throat entered Niko's mind. He would be dead and Zevran would be long gone before anyone was the wiser.

The morbid thought was interrupted when he heard fabric drop beside him and Niko glanced to the side, realizing it was Zevran's tunic. He'd taken it off and was now rubbing oil into his hands.

Niko relaxed a bit, closing his eyes and smiling when he felt Zevran straddle his hips.

"I can practically hear you smirking up there," he pointed out and Zevran pretty much confirmed it by letting out a huff of laughter.

"No smirking here, no," he lied. "Though I must say I have found myself in a rather _privileged_ position."

"Congratulations. I'm sure you- ohh..." Niko lost track of what he was about to say when he felt strong hands press into the knotted muscles of his back, slowly easing away some of the tension there. With a reaction like that, he was sure the Antivan elf was all the more satisfied with himself.

"Hm you like that, do you?" Zevran asked. Oh yes, he was smirking.

Niko felt more relaxed than he had in months as Zevran worked his hands all over his upper body, pressing broad strokes down the curve of his back and caressing his spine. His whole body felt hot and pliable. Soothing oil, warmed by Zevran's own palms, was rubbed into his skin. It smelled woody and a bit sweet, like cypress and pine with a touch of honey. Niko rather liked it; it reminded him of the wood piles his father kept by the fireplace, and of the very forests he often found himself sleeping in now.

Zevran gently removed Niko's arms out from under his chin and brought them to rest against his sides instead. The Warden didn't object at all, completely content to let Zevran mold him anew with his capable hands. He rubbed Niko's arms and then worked his shoulders again, digging his thumbs into the thick muscle and then massaging luxurious strokes down his back.

Zevran smiled with each short moan he elicited from the Warden, deliberately drawing them out of him, though Niko tried to stifle it every time. Zevran then began rubbing little circles into the small of his back, just above the waistband of Niko's leather trousers.

"So much tension in those muscles, my dear Warden," he said softly while he moved backwards to kneel above the other elf's thighs. His hardening length barely brushed against Niko's leg as he did so, but it sent a bit of a silent thrill through them both.

"I think you're enjoying this as much as I am," Niko pointed out to the assassin.

Zevran snickered quietly, almost unheard. "How could I not?"

He splayed his hands out, digging the heels of his palms into Niko's lower back and then caressed up and down his sides with firm fingertips. It was so soothing, the tent was so warm, and Niko was so worn out from hiking around the country. He could very easily drift to sleep like this if it weren't for the slow, sensuous haze of desire mounting between them, and the knowledge that all of their cravings would soon be satisfied.

He drew in a breathy gasp, momentarily surprised when Zevran's hands slipped under his pants and his smallclothes. He felt firm hands kneading his ass and he was unable to suppress the low moan that slowly escaped his lips. And Zevran didn't stop until those muscles were as free of tension as the others.

When he did finally withdraw his hands, Zevran was silent and Niko was as relaxed and aroused as he could stand to be at the same time. He closed his eyes, inhaling the refreshing fragrance of cypress that lingered on his skin, mixed with Zevran own unique, somewhat spicy scent. The camp was mostly quiet now. There were no more noises from the tents nearby and Gideon's yapping had long ago ceased. The crickets, of course, chirped their nightly song, and camp was near enough to the water's edge that they could faintly hear the ripples in the lake lapping gently against the shore.

Niko felt more of Zevran's weight on him when the Antivan elf leaned in, his long blond hair tickling Niko's shoulders as he placed soft kisses on the back of his neck.

Smiling, Niko hummed in approval and Zevran responded by trailing his lips to Niko's ear, licking the shell and nipping the pointed tip.

His pants were becoming uncomfortably constricting, and Niko felt heat pool into his stomach, anxious and excited for what was to come. He brought himself up on his elbows and looked back at Zevran. He was met with soft lips against his own and the Antivan's hand caressing his cheek.

"If you are of a mind to," Zevran said, each word brushing his lips against Niko's. "I would prefer to continue the massage with far less clothing."

He kissed him again and Niko was unable to give his answer until Zevran withdrew.

"I'm definitely of a mind to," he mumbled.

Niko maneuvered onto his back and Zevran helped him out of his leather pants, peeling them off along with his smallclothes.

If he weren't so relaxed from such a thorough massage, Niko would feel more vulnerable lying naked under Zevran, who was still half-dressed and hovering above him. The assassin smirked, eyes trailing over Niko's body, gaze lingering on his half-hard cock before reaching for the vial of scented massage oil again.

Niko watched as Zevran warmed the oil in his palms, marveling at the other elf's shirtless form; his taut biceps and smooth, firm chest. Not that he'd never seen it before. Zevran often walked around camp at night in nothing more than a simple pair of loose trews, like he was in now. Zevran was more muscular than any elf he'd met before, though still lean and agile. The dark lines of the tattoos on his back matched the sharp elegance of the one on his face. And the markings came around to the front in curved points just enough to accentuate the slight curve of his hips. No doubt there were similar ones in less conspicuous places…

Niko bit his bottom lip against another moan as Zevran gripped his legs, kneading the top muscle and rubbing small circles into the inner thighs with his thumbs. Then Zevran worked on each calf individually, slowing in his ministrations as he met the other elf's half-lidded eyes.

Never dropping his gaze from Niko's, he slowly traced one finger over the Warden's ankle, causing him to shiver. Zevran smiled leisurely and Niko watched as the Antivan came back to him, kissing his way up Niko's chest, his neck, and then finally made it to his lips. Niko wrapped his arms around Zevran's back and drew him nearer, allowing more of the assassin's weight to press down on him.

Their bodies were practically molded together; hips aligned, bare stomachs and chests pressed together, lips collectively seeking more and becoming wet, open-mouthed revelry.

Niko groaned into Zevran's mouth when the Antivan ground his hips against Niko's, pressing his clothed length against Niko's naked one. In response, the Warden's hands lowered from Zevran's back and hastily reached for the Antivan's trousers, trying to tug them off.

Zevran withdrew with a smirk, leaving Niko panting while he removed the dark blue trews he wore, sliding them off easily and tossing them aside with his earlier-discarded tunic.

Niko grinned, pleased with the sight. He sat up and went to the Antivan on his knees, and Zevran locked his arms around Niko's waist, resuming their kiss.

The Warden's arms draped over Zevran's shoulders and he slid his fingers into the elf's soft hair, forcing a deeper kiss, tongues sliding together. Zevran let his hands roam freely down Niko's body, pressing firm fingers that, in Niko's imagination, would leave lasting marks.

They lowered back down on the bedroll, their kisses turning fierce and rough as need and heat grew between them. Zevran gripped Niko's thigh, giving a hard squeeze just above his knee before placing himself between the Warden's legs. Niko drove his hips upward, prompting both of them to moan loudly before quickly biting it back. They both quieted for a second, and Niko was wincing, hoping no one heard them. Zevran caught his eye and they both smiled, soft breaths of laughter intermingling as their lips slowly came together again, kissing gently this time.

Zevran then sat up and reached for one of his vials. This one was not a massage oil, and Niko watched with anticipation as Zevran removed its cap and poured some onto his fingers. The Warden readily drew his knees back to his chest, where he felt his heart beating hard and fast, both eager for the pleasure and wary of the inevitable pain.

As Zevran sunk one slick finger in, Niko bit down on his lip and reminded himself to relax. It made it a little easier for Zevran to prepare him. The Antivan was surprisingly tender and patient, leaving an affectionate kiss on Niko's inner thigh before adding a second finger. Niko was somewhere between pleasured and pained as both fingers moved in and out with a scissoring motion. It was dizzying and delightful.

By the time Zevran added a third finger, Niko was eagerly pressing back against him, and Zevran soon decided to withdraw all three fingers completely. Niko grinned as he inclined his head to watch Zevran. The assassin was adding more slippery contents of the vial to his hand, which he then wrapped around his cock. He prepared himself now, eyes flickering to Niko, who gazed hungrily at Zevran's solid length.

Zevran smirked at this and soon crawled back over to Niko, kissing him firmly once more before kneeling back. With one hand he grasped the Warden's hip, and with the other he guided himself in.

They both let out gasping moans, unconcerned with who may have heard them this time. Zevran was slow to push in further, letting Niko grow accustomed to the sensation.

Niko clenched his teeth against the tight burn inside of him, and he wanted to both laugh and cry thinking about "foreign objects invading his personal space". He didn't do either of those things though. Instead Niko forced his own eyes open so he could see Zevran hovering over him, his hands planted on either side of Niko's head. He brought his legs up to wrap around the Antivan's body and Zevran sank in deeper to fill him. Niko stifled a moan and threw his head back, so Zevran used the opportunity to lean down and kiss the exposed skin.

Zevran took him slowly at first. Inch by inch, the heat and haze of ecstasy grew until nothing but desire filled the small quarters of the tent. He watched as the tense lines of Niko's face smoothed, and he knew the exact moment that the discomfort was overwhelmed by sheer pleasure for him. Peering down at the Grey Warden, he was unable to resist slipping his tongue into those parted lips, giving a particularly hard thrust as he did so. Niko's muffled moan against his lips had a dizzying effect on Zevran, who pressed more fiercely against the other elf's lips in an effort to capture the feeling.

He pulled back and watched Niko's lids close over the green of his eyes, dark lashes suddenly netting Zevran's attention. He placed brief kisses on those too before repositioning himself to take harder, quicker thrusts into the Warden.

Niko's hands were all over Zevran, each ghosting touch over his back and arms a whisper of want and gratitude. He'd needed this. All of his time was spent as a leader, a role he'd never asked for. Day in and day out, he thought constantly of avoiding ambush and intrigue, warring across the back roads of the nation, yet still somehow on the front lines, the tip of the spear against the Blight. It was too much pressure, and every night Niko was afraid he would fold under its weight.

But tonight, with Zevran, his burdens were left outside the tent. In here, it was just the two of them, and the assassin was more than willing to be the one who helped strip away Niko's worries. He knew that every day the Grey Warden fought hard to maintain control; control of the darkspawn threat, control of their battles, control of his own emotions. What he wanted now was to hand over that control to someone else, to let it go for just one night.

Zevran suddenly withdrew his still hard cock from him, and Niko was about to groan in protest. But he was pleasantly surprised when he was swiftly flipped, now on his hands and knees. He couldn't help but grin when Zevran took him from this new position, feeling that last bit of control slip away when the Antivan grasped his hips and plunged into him.

He dug his fingers into the fabric of the bedroll beneath him, angling himself back into Zevran's firm thrusts. One of the assassin's hands remained on his hip, clutching there while the other slid down the curve of Niko's back and came to a grip on his shoulder, thumb pressing in to muscle in massaging motions. It was the perfect balance of domination and affection, and it soon brought Niko over the edge.

He grit his teeth against a moan as he felt Zevran's thrusts becoming erratic. Both of his hands came back to Niko's hips, taking a bruising hold as the unbearable pleasure buzzed in his abdomen, overwhelming his senses until it spilled over and an Antivan swear escaped from behind clenched teeth.

They were both panting heavily, sweat-slicked bodies pressed together. Zevran's forehead fell to Niko's shoulder and the Warden smiled as he felt the heavy rise and fall of Zevran's heaving chest against his back.

The assassin dropped a kiss on Niko's shoulder before pulling out of him. Niko laid down on his back and Zevran cleaned them up.

Now that it was over, the exhaustion of the day's trek set in again for both of them. While Zevran was unsure about staying in the Warden's tent, his mind was made up for him when Niko pulled him down to lie beside him. He chuckled softly, eyes drooping as his head hit the soft pillow, and he rolled Niko over to spoon him close. He fell asleep breathing in the earthy, masculine scent of the massage oil clinging to the Warden's skin.


	11. Cursed Hearts

**Author's Note:** This is the last chapter that I have finished at the moment, so the next updates might come slower now.

Thank you all for continuing to read. :-]

**Chapter Rating:** T

**Pairing:** Zevran/(M)Tabris

* * *

**Chapter 11**

Cursed Hearts

Niko woke up pressed against Zevran's chest, too warm for the early autumn morning. He heard something strange outside the tent, some kind of scratching and it took him a moment to realize it was his mabari digging at the ground close by.

Too close actually.

He rubbed his eyes and felt Zevran shift behind him. The assassin was already awake, now sitting up and staring drowsily at the flap of the tent where the sound was coming from.

"I don't know if that will work, but thanks for trying. I really _really_ don't want to go in there."

That was Alistair.

He was answered with a gleeful bark from Gideon.

"I believe we may have overslept," Zevran commented while Niko stifled a groan.

The amount of light filtering into the tent told Niko that he was right.

"Oh. Are you two finally awake in there?" Alistair spoke up, sounding a bit awkward as he stood just outside the tent. "Good. None of us wanted to wake you. Unfortunately, I drew the short stick."

Niko sighed. "We'll be right out."

He sat up and rifled through their discarded clothing, ready to get back to reality. Zevran, however, was content to lie back and just watch Niko get dressed for the moment, a smug little smirk on his face.

"See? I knew this would happen eventually. I should have warned you right from the moment you refused to kill me. It was inevitable."

Niko pulled his tunic over his head and glanced back at Zevran, raising an eyebrow at him. "And here I thought I seduced you."

"O-ho!" Zevran grinned and finally sat up. "Such subtlety in your seductive charms that I was not even aware of them. A work of art in motion perhaps?" He rubbed his chin, appraising Niko, who turned to face Zevran with a haughty look of his own. And he threw Zevran's shirt at him.

They began taking down the tent together, while the others were mostly already packed up and now working on breakfast. They received a few curious glances from Leliana and Morrigan, and Niko guessed that what had happened between Zevran and him was probably obvious.

Had they been too loud last night? Or had someone peeked in to wake him and found them sleeping next to each other? He ignored those thoughts and the embarrassed blush that crept up his skin. He didn't want to get stuck on worrying what the others might think or say, and he wasn't sure what sleeping with Zevran might mean, if it would lose him respect among his companions perhaps. He hadn't considered that possibility at all last night actually. It just felt… inevitable, as Zevran put it. The flirting and the heated kiss back at the castle, it all led up to last night.

With the risen sun high above them, the two elves worked together to roll up the tent before standing to face each other.

"So then," Zevran spoke up again, going for casual laced with serious inquiry to voice what was on both of their minds. "As the Priestess so famously said to the handsome actor… what now?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing," Niko admitted.

Zevran crossed his arms and his tone took on a note of businesslike calm. "Allow me to make it simple for you, my Grey Warden. What comes next is entirely up to you." When Niko's eyes narrowed at being saddled with all the decision-making yet again, Zevran went on to explain himself. "I was raised to take my pleasures where they could be found, for they do not come often. I shall ask nothing more of you than you are willing to give."

Niko looked to Zevran's eyes to see the assassin was watching him intently, though he was unable to read any emotion from the expression.

He didn't like this. Zevran wasn't exactly putting his cards on the table, so to speak. How was Niko supposed to know if there were any feelings involved here? He assumed there wasn't; this was just for fun. Maybe he was supposed to assume that. As for his own feelings… he wasn't sure. Perhaps Zevran wasn't either.

He decided leaving his options open would be the best way to go, as he certainly wasn't against a repeat of last night.

"Sounds fine by me."

Zevran grinned again. "I must admit, we have come very far from those early days when I tried to kill you and you decided not to kill me. Fate is such a tricky whore, isn't she?"

Niko smiled and shook his head at the almost philosophical air to Zevran's question. "That she is."

-o-o-o-

They did not find Sten's sword. But within the trees just beyond Calenhad's docks, among wolf-torn scraps, thick bones, and other putrid remains… there was a lead. A single scavenger rummaging through the worthless heaps told them he learned of these "picking grounds" from a guy named Faryn, who likely already made off with anything of value, including Sten's sword. They were told he would probably be in Orzammar.

Unfortunately they were headed in the opposite direction, and they weren't going to backtrack off their planned route now. So all they could do was hope Faryn would still be there later.

They ran into the usual along the way to eastern Ferelden; darkspawn, bandits, and beasties. They ran into the not-so-usual as well though. Not far from Lake Calenhad, they travelled into Bann Loren's lands where they found the Bann's men attacking one of King Cailan's honor guard. Before the man died, he managed to tell Niko and Alistair of important documents that were hidden back at Ostagar. It was one more reason for them to return now. After they left Redcliffe, Niko had promised Morrigan he would go back to, well… kill her mother.

He wasn't keen on the idea. After all, Flemeth had been the one to save him and Alistair. He was also trying to ignore the part of him that wondered if Morrigan was just trying to get him to do her dirty work for some scheme. But she had seemed genuinely distraught over what she had read in Flemeth's book; he couldn't blame her after she told him what it said. So it seemed they would be heading south after their business in the Brecilian forest.

The wandering elves proved very difficult to find, however. They spent days trekking through the outskirts, finding nothing but a few stray wolves and one bear that they managed to avoid. Though with each step, Niko felt eyes on him. The others felt it, too.

It perhaps would have been easier to see if anyone was watching them if the forest weren't so dense, filled with the thickest, green pines and rising oaks. Autumn had taken hold, painting many of the trees in fiery shades, though the leaves had not yet all died and fallen away.

Niko knew the Dalish were out there. Many of his kin back home thought they were a myth, though others believed enough to seek out the Dalish themselves, hoping for a freer life. Niko had even considered doing the same when he was a bit younger, though he had never seriously considered it. He loved his family too much, and there were plenty of things about the Alienage that he liked despite his wish to leave it. Whether or not the Dalish truly existed mattered little to Niko until the day he held the treaty requesting their aid in a Blight. It was proof enough for him. Though it didn't really matter whether or not he believed if they couldn't find a clan in Ferelden.

Their search was nearly a week in progress when they were met on the path by a fair-haired elven woman. She was flanked by two other elves, all three of them dressed in leathers and armed with bows or swords. They were obviously waiting for the group. Evidently, they had a much easier time tracking Niko and his companions than they'd had at finding the Dalish.

"Hold, outsider," the woman said, raising her hand in a halting gesture. Her eyes fell to Niko, who preceded the party. "You may be one of my kind, but you are not Dalish. Why are you here?"

Niko glanced between the other elves, his gaze lingering briefly on the ornate tattoos decorating their faces.

So these were the Dalish… He could think of several people back home who would never ever believe he was seeing this.

"I have business with your leader actually," he informed.

"What business is that?" the Dalish woman asked, her tone marginally sharper than the businesslike cool she had met them with.

Niko warily eyed the archer in the back, wondering how fast his draw was.

He doubted the Dalish would turn them in to Teryn Loghain or Arl Howe, though. They didn't exactly play well with humans from what he'd heard of them. So he told her the truth. "I'm a Grey Warden."

The woman seemed to take pause, raising her chin to peer downward at him, her eyes shining with what looked to be some amount of interest. "That is not a lie many would attempt," she mused. "I will bring you to the Keeper then, and he will decide if your business is worthwhile."

-o-o-o-

Along with Alistair, Zevran, and Morrigan, Niko soon found himself venturing deeper into the Brecilian forest than even the Dalish dared to go. They had to if they were going to have the elves on their side.

"Of course the werewolves just _had_ to attack the Dalish during a Blight, didn't they?" Niko complained as the four of them approached a rickety bridge above a narrow waterfall.

"Just like the Circle Tower had to go and get overrun with demons and abominations, too." Alistair chimed in. "Perhaps all the tunnels will just collapse when we get to Orzammar."

"It wouldn't surprise me in the least," Niko grumbled. As they walked along the wooden boards, water rushing beneath them, they passed a strange teal-colored lantern hung upon a short tree. He supposed maybe the Dalish had put it there, but everyone in the clan was forbidden to enter the forest by Keeper Zathrian. The ferns beneath were basking in witch light, giving them an eerie glow. They all gave it a suspicious glance as they passed before turning their attention to the haunted forest ahead of them.

They had to fight a few wolves not far in. One of them was infected with Blight corruption. It didn't take much longer to find the darkspawn after that; a couple of hurlocks and an ogre.

They didn't come across any werewolves yet though.

Niko was a bit ahead of the others when Alistair and Morrigan started bickering again. He was kind of grateful that he couldn't quite make out what they were saying. Zevran perhaps had the same idea when he walked ahead and sidled up next to Niko.

They looked to each other, a companionable smile settling on Zevran's face that Niko returned.

They hadn't spoken much back at the Dalish camp. Niko had been busy gathering supplies and speaking to a few members of the clan. It had been strange interacting with the Dalish. There were plenty of warm welcomes, though it was meshed with outright confusion and unintentional judgment towards him for being an elf from one of the shemlen cities. By the time they headed into the forest, Niko was only glad to deal with werewolves instead of more members of the Dalish clan. He was tired of the condescension caked in politeness.

He wasn't sure what Zevran had thought of all of it. The only comment the Antivan had made was when they had walked into the camp, saying that forests were filthy and that he considered himself more of a city boy.

"What do you think of the Dalish?" he asked the tattooed elf.

"I know little enough of the Dalish other than the fact that my mother was one. Or so I was told." Zevran shrugged. "She had fallen in love with an elven woodcutter and accompanied him back to the city, leaving her clan behind for good. And there, of course, the woodcutter died of some filthy disease and my mother was forced into prostitution to pay off his debts. Oldest tale in the book."

Niko frowned and searched for an appropriate response to that. "Was the woodcutter your father?"

"How should I know? My mother was a whore, as you'll recall. None of the other whorehouse boys knew their fathers. I didn't know my mother either, of course. She died giving birth to me. My first victim, as it were." He tried to give a cynical smile, but it came out as more of a wince. "We were all raised communally by the whores. It was a happy enough existence, ignoring the occasional beating, until eventually I was sold to the Crows. I brought a good price, so I hear."

Niko looked to him while silence fell upon them for the moment, the quiet broken only by their companions' snippy voices behind them. "I'm sorry, Zev."

"That is very kind of you to say, but it is not necessary," Zevran responded immediately to what he thought was pity. Looking up at Niko, though, it was empathy that he saw. "It could have been much worse. Shall I tell you about what happened to the other whorehouse boys who did not fetch a decent price with the Crows?" He caught Niko's gaze. "Surely your life has not been so idyllic? People like you and I are not the product of happy lives of contentment after all."

"…You can say that again," Niko replied, pulling his eyes away. He wondered if that had been Zevran's way of inviting him to share more, but he didn't really want to talk about his own childhood at this very moment.

Zevran sighed. "My original point is that my mother's Dalish nature was always a point of fascination for me. Through all the years of my Crow training, the one thing of my mother's that I possessed was a pair of gloves. They were of Dalish make, I knew that much, and beautiful. I had to keep them hidden, of course, as we were not allowed such things. Eventually they were discovered and I never saw them again."

"So you don't think of yourself as Dalish at all?"

"Not at all. I think of myself as Antivan." He smirked. "Still, that did not stop me from running off to join a clan when it drew near Antiva City once. Naturally the reality did not live up at all to the fantasies I had constructed as a boy, staring at those gloves. But such is life."

"You're not even listening to me," Alistair said indignantly behind them. Both elves turned to see Alistair glaring at the dark-haired witch.

"My, you are smarter than you look after all," she mocked.

"Don't you two get tired of irritating each other?" Niko asked.

They both quieted down, though Niko was pretty sure he heard Alistair grumble something like "she started it". He watched Zevran collect elfroot and deathroot as they walked along. There was an abundant supply all around them, useful for potions and salves they could put together later.

It was eerily quiet for a forest; not enough birds or bees going about their business. Niko looked up when he heard the rush of a waterfall ahead, spilling out over a cliff wall. Another set of boards were laid out for them to cross. But as they neared, three dark figures dashed through the forestry on the other side, almost too fast for him to see. But they were definitely werewolves, he knew, even if he'd never seen one before. The shadows revealed only shaggy silhouettes and a resolute, wild gait. A chill ran up Niko's spine as the feral creatures, long-limbed and burly, sprinted right towards them. They all reached for their weapons, but paused when the werewolves stopped to stand on a patch of earth in the middle of the water… waiting for them.

Niko left his dagger sheathed, raising his hand to signal for his teammates to do the same. Then he stepped onto the bridge to cross towards the beasts, keeping guarded eyes on them. Standing at twice his height at least, they had big, barrel chests, and thick, matted hair sprouting along every swell of muscle.

They spoke, which was surprising. They also did not attack, which was even more surprising. Some threats were exchanged, but no blood was shed. When the three werewolves retreated back into the forest, Niko was left puzzled. These were not exactly the untamed beasts he had expected.

It didn't matter though. He had to find a cure so the Dalish could heal their infected and join with the army against the Blight. And the cure laid within Witherfang.

The sun was setting by the time they made it into the eastern part of the forest, so they decided to rest rather than get lost in the dark.

Dinner was bread and berries from their packs and the rabbit Morrigan caught, cooked over a small fire she had put together almost all on her own after the rest of them failed to catch a spark. They were all rather grateful she had so much experience living in deep woods… and could magically set fire to a stack of logs.

They slept in shifts. A forest with werewolves and tears in the Fade was too dangerous a place to let their guards drop.

Zevran woke to a sharp stab in the ass, courtesy of Morrigan's wooden staff.

"Your turn," she chirped whilst walking over to her own bedroll on the opposite side of the fire.

Zevran rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stood, thinking of a witty retort too late, as Morrigan was already drifting off. His eyes scanned the camp to see Alistair splayed out on the ground snoring, and Niko tucked soundly in his bedroll. Zevran took up a station under the low-hanging branches of a tree, piercing the tips of his daggers into the ground, within easy reach of where he sat at the base.

The cold, still, autumn air kept him alert as the night passed before him uneventfully. He watched a couple of halla wander into a nearby clearing, their white coats and spiraling horns almost luminous under the pure shine of the moon. One lifted its head and took notice of Zevran, the animal's large eyes boring into the elf's golden stare.

A sudden noise startled the halla and they darted off back into the trees while Zevran looked to where the sound was coming from. He saw Niko thrashing a bit in his bedroll, teeth clenched and head tossing back and forth in his sleep. He continued to observe the Warden for a moment, unsure if he should wake him from the nightmare.

_All Niko could see was filth. The lands were covered by darkspawn marching over the hills and plains in droves, like swarms of roaches scattering the nation. And above the sea of darkspawn and blighted soil was an evil entity, the archdemon soaring and sounding a deafening roar._

He awoke with a gasp, breathing in crisp, cold air.

The debris and the chaos were gone, replaced with a crackling fire and the shock of cold sweat. Opening his eyes, the lingering dread slowly washed away as he counted the stars. Niko had never seen so many dotting the sky at once, framed by great spruce trees towering high above like sentinels guarding him through the night. He stared up at the heavenly scene until the nightmare was forgotten; until all that remained was the chill on his skin and the scent of burning wood and elfroot around him.

Niko sat up, rubbing a sore spot in his shoulder where he apparently slept on a rock. That's when he felt eyes on him, and he glanced to the left to see Zevran watching him from under the shadows of a low tree limb.

"Bad dreams?" came the assassin's soothing voice in hushed tones.

Niko stared at him a moment and decided not to answer right away. Instead he stood up, ignoring the chill of Harvestmere as he went to sit beside Zevran.

"Just more darkspawn nightmares," he whispered.

"You have those quite a bit," Zevran observed.

"Alistair says they can be worse for those that join during a Blight."

"Hm." Zevran didn't ask about the nightmares. He'd tried before when he began to notice them, but Niko would only tell him that it was part of being a Grey Warden, that it had to do with their connection to the darkspawn. It was also a "trade secret" of sorts, so he couldn't go blathering about it.

"I'm fine," Niko promised.

And he honestly sounded fine, Zevran noted. The stress that came with leading them all against the Blight seemed to have lessened a bit for Niko over the last few days, and they'd all taken notice. Zevran was cocky, and he'd be the first to admit to such, but he wasn't sure he could claim responsibility for this particular change in their leader. And yet he couldn't think of anything that could have spurred it besides the new... _developments_ in their relationship.

"Of course, my dear Warden." Zevran smiled as he curled an arm around Niko's waist. "So you've come to keep me company on my watch?"

Niko nodded and Zevran's smile turned into a grin.

"Ah good. I have a question for you then." He turned his head a bit to hold Niko's gaze, playfulness settling just beneath his neutral features. "How well versed are you in poetry? Antivan poetry, specifically."

Niko shook his head. "I know nothing of poetry," he admitted.

"Trust me. You'll know even less after I tell you this." Niko could heard the mirth beneath Zevran's words and it made him smile. "It was recited to me, as I recall, by a rather wealthy target of mine." The assassin cleared his throat and went on to retell it, doing his best to deliver the lines with feeling. "The symphony I see in thee, it whispers songs to me. Songs of hot breath upon my neck. Songs of soft grunts by my head. Songs of hands on muscled back. Songs of thee… come to my bed."

He grinned wickedly at the end and Niko's eyebrows rose in surprise. Though it wasn't the best poem (even he knew that), it managed to bring forth imagery of that first night with Zevran anyway. And for that reason, he really liked it.

"What is that?" He finally asked after a moment of silence, a grin spreading across his face. "Sex poetry?"

"Psh. So she claimed," Zevran smirked and glanced away to stare ahead into the forest. "She was trying to seduce me, you see, and somehow thought that this would actually convince me to spare her." The fingers curled around Niko's waist had started to move, tracing lightly over the skin under the Warden's long-sleeved tunic. "I had sex with her anyway, but that goes without saying. She still had to die. The poem was amusing at the time, however, and thus I've always remembered it."

"So you thought to seduce _me_ with it?" Niko inquired with a smirk of his own.

"Hmm now that is a thought, isn't it?" Zevran grinned and looked to Niko again, drawing him a bit closer. "Would it work?"

"It might," Niko teased.

"I'll have to keep that in mind. My usual methods of seduction are more direct," he replied. "Here I thought you might be cheered up by some naughty poetry. You simply look so… grim." He smiled. "Such an unflattering expression for such a handsome face."

"You think I'm handsome do you?" Niko only smirked more.

"Ah who wouldn't?" Zevran's eyes glinted with mischief and charm. "Burn me in the Chantry if you must, but you are a man to stoke the lust in women and other men alike." He leaned in, lips teasingly close to Niko's for a moment before pulling away. "But surely you know this and you are playing with me."

Niko chuckled under his breath and leaned in closer to the other elf.

"Me," Zevran went on. "I tend to make the best of whatever situation I find myself in, stealing what moments I can. It's served me well most days. You might learn to do the same."

Niko rolled his eyes fondly at Zevran's words. _Stealing moments_. What else did Zevran think he was doing here sitting with him when he could be sleeping instead?

"I think I do the same actually," he replied, resting his head on Zevran's shoulder.

"Oh? Then I learn something new about you every day."

They sat in silence for a few moments, relaxing in the warmth they could provide one another. Unknown to the Warden, Zevran was going through a debate in his head, wondering if he should have told that awful poem, or mentioned that he'd slept with his target before killing her in cold blood. He had told such tales before, of course. Though now he wondered if admitting to murdering his targets after getting in to bed with them was wise, considering the Warden _had_ been a target of his and now they were sleeping together. He was trying to maintain Niko's trust, not plant seeds of doubt. The others still sometimes openly voiced their reservations about Zevran, questioning his intentions and loyalties.

But, he told himself, Niko had to accept this part of him. His past could not be erased and, truthfully, Zevran was not ashamed of it. Not most of it anyway, no.

He had no intentions of harming the Warden or any of the others. Niko seemed to believe that though, and that was how Zevran wanted it to remain. This was not a mission for the Crows anymore. He was free of them. And he had Niko to thank for that.

He glanced down at the Warden, who continued to let his head rest on Zevran's shoulder. The assassin closed his eyes a moment, letting fingers that rested against Niko's side roam gently over his smooth, tan skin.

The Warden had to know this was not a trick, Zevran told himself. Cuddling under a tree with his target had never been part of his schemes. That thought alone bothered Zevran some. This was actually quite unfamiliar territory for him, not something he'd normally do with someone, not with a lover or anyone.

While he was having this internal struggle and Niko was almost drifting off to sleep where he was, they both heard something strange a few yards off. Listening carefully, they could hear what sounded like heavy dragging along the soil, accompanied by shallow, pained breaths and whines, like a dog's.

They stood, both of them grabbing their daggers before creeping closer to investigate.

Following a narrow dirt path through some trees, the two of them both froze when they saw what was making the noise.

A werewolf was dragging itself along the path, belly to the ground and back muscles bunched in pain. There didn't appear to be any injuries, but the creature collapsed with breathy, aching whines. Large eyes turned on them, shining under the moonlight with magic and tears… staring… pleading.

"P-please… help…" the beast called to them both, each word a struggle. "Listen… I am not… the mindless beast I appear to be…"

They approached cautiously, though Niko couldn't help but feel sorrow for the werewolf. "What happened to you?" It was then that he noticed the fabric wrapped around the werewolf's neck. It appeared to be a scarf, brown with a pattern that reminded him of the Dalish tattoos.

"They… I am cursed… turned into this creature. The curse, it… it burns in me!" The creature yelled in pain as it struggled to rise to a kneeling position before them. "I… fled into the forest. The werewolves, they… took me in. But I had to return. I had to!"

"Careful." They heard Alistair behind them and turned to see he and Morrigan approaching, armed, though still wearing their night clothes. "The werewolves might have laid a trap for us, or something. You never know."

Niko turned back to face the werewolf, who looked up at them all with pain etched into every feature. Unblinking, it gazed upon the new humans for a long moment before settling mournful eyes on Niko.

"You are… an elf." The creature's sentence broke off in a high pitch, obviously holding back pain and sadness. It broke Niko's heart. "But not one of the Dalish. I was, until my… change." The werewolf whimpered and broke off into strained speech again "Have you… seen my clan?"

"Your keeper, Zathrian, is the one who sent us here," Niko answered.

"The keeper sent you? Then… you seek Witherfang," the creature realized, ducking its head.

"I do. Have you seen him?" Niko asked.

"I have, but…" It lifted its head to look at him again. "It is not what you think. But… there is no time to explain. You must listen…" The creature groaned and tried to ignore the pain so it could continue speaking. "My name is Danyla."

Niko's eyes widened in recognition, recalling that he had met an elf back at the Dalish camp looking for his wife, whose name was Danyla. He remembered the man as one of the few who didn't treat him like he wasn't elf enough for them.

"My husband… He is called Athras. Please, you must… bring him a message." The creature huffed as the burn of the curse grew more difficult to withstand. "The scarf I wear… bring it to him. Tell him I love him…" She whimpered. "Tell him… I am dead and with the gods. I beg you…"

"I spoke to Athras," Niko told her. "He worries about you."

"I want him to be at peace," she begged. "He is a good man. Please, do not… let him suffer thinking of me." She choked and her body writhed. "Ah! The pain! The curse… is fire in my blood! Please! End it for me! End it quickly!"

"I will," Niko promised, raising his dagger.

Danyla stood, bulky body hunched over unsteady legs.

"Gods bless you," were her last words as the long blade of the dagger sank into her heart.

The four of them stood back as she dropped with a pained grunt, blood pooling out beneath her body. Niko stepped forward and unwrapped the tattered scarf from around her neck, now soaked red.

"She said that she saw Witherfang," Niko spoke as he carefully folded the fabric. He looked up to gauge his companions' thoughtful expressions. "But it's not what we think…?"


	12. Forces of Nature

**Author's Note:** The longest chapter yet, I'm pretty sure. Sorry for the delay. I'll probably be posting every two weeks from now on instead of every week. Thank you everyone who is reading and reviewing.

This story is published on Archive of Our Own now as well, just so you know.

**Chapter Rating:** T

**Pairing:** Zevran/(M)Tabris

* * *

**Chapter 12**

Forces of Nature

Plenty of theories about the werewolves, Witherfang, and the curse were tossed around the next morning as they continued their trek through the Brecilian forest. There was also plenty of speculation on how the Veil was torn in the forest in the first place. But none of them were sure.

"These werewolves are different, though," Alistair noted after Morrigan told a story of werewolves in the Korcari Wilds.

"They are still attacking us," Niko pointed out.

Indeed, though the werewolf identifying itself as Swiftrunner and his two companions had not attacked earlier, plenty of other werewolves they had come across had tried to kill them.

"I know," Alistair continued. "I just get the feeling that there is something strange going on here."

Niko felt something grab his ankle, and he looked down to see thick roots winding their way out of the earth and up his leg, quickly spreading out as a wooden cage around him. The others had no time to help him out, as they were all attacked by great sylvans lumbering out of lines of trees towards them.

Behind his cage of twined and twisted roots, Niko could do nothing to aid his companions as they were struck by the long, heavy limbs of the crazed trees. Alistair and Zevran managed to hack one down with their blades, while Morrigan was caught in another sylvan's trap. While she blasted hers apart with a firebolt, Niko hacked pieces off his with a dagger to break through.

There were a lot of them, hiding amongst the regular trees and attacking when the party got close. Their forms were manipulated by whatever possessed them to attack in the first place; trunks split into walking limbs, branches bending with unnatural joints, long and sharp twig-like fingers at the ends. Their faces were warped, resembling a monster mask Niko had once made out of tree bark when he was little.

When all six of them were felled, the group hesitantly put their weapons away to move on, only to walk right into the path of another possessed tree…

Niko nearly collided with this one as it unfurled branchy arms with poise, towering over the two elves and two humans with an unthreatening stance.

Its deep voice rumbled to life along with its oaken body.

"Hrrrrm… what manner of beast be thee that comes before this elder tree?"

Niko stared up at it.

Talking golems, talking werewolves, and now… talking trees. He wondered when he'd stop being surprised by such things.

"You can't see me?" he asked the tree. "I'm an elf."

"Ahhh, yes, I remember thee. Long ago, the elves roamed free, their numbers few and passing fast, until one eve we saw their last."

Niko had to wonder at its words. How old must this creature be? What did it know of the elves of long ago and what happened to the forest?

"Allow me to welcome thee. I am called the Grand Oak, sometimes the Elder Tree. And unless though thinkst it far too soon, might I ask of thee a boon?"

"It… rhymes? Tis a rhyming tree," Morrigan voiced from behind Niko. The Warden was pretty certain he'd never heard her so perplexed. "One can only imagine what manner of spirit is involved here."

"I am an elder oak and nothing more," it responded. "Though once I dreamt of a time before, when I roamed the world and howled with pain, not of this world but twixt and twain… Perhaps I was a spirit then? A wandering thing drawn to this glen? But then that spirit joined with a tree; now a tree is all I be."

"Why _do_ you speak in rhymes?" Niko asked, purely out of curiosity.

"I do not know. Why dost thou not? Thy words seem plan, a mundane lot. Perhaps a poet's soul in me… Does that make me a _poet tree_?"

Niko gave a thin smile, wincing as the Grand Oak chuckled. "Oh yes... I get it. But… you're not hostile like the other trees we ran into."

"Of the sylvans, this is true; they are quite mad, their virtues few. A spirit trapped within a tree, no mouth to scream or eyes to see. A cage of bark, a prison wood, a thing of rage where nature stood. So twisted sylvan they become, but I am not the same as some. I accept my oaken home, I feel no need to rage and roam."

"Can you tell me more about this forest?" Niko asked the Grand Oak.

"It was the elves who planted the seeds, raised the forest, saw to its needs. But that was all… so long ago. That they are dead is all I know."

"What made the forest like this?"

"A great war perhaps, I cannot tell. I was not here when it befell. But many deaths here, all the same, and with the deaths the spirits came. The spirits entered corpse and tree and most went mad as thou canst see. The forest had a spirit of its own, from back when its first seeds were sown. Perhaps she died of grief that day, or perhaps she simply went away. Or perhaps the weres are the ones to blame, for the day she left is the day they came."

"Weres?" Niko finally spoke up again. "Do you know where the werewolves are? Can you tell me where Witherfang is?"

"In the center of the forest the weres do dwell, or so go the tales my fellows tell. But they cannot be followed there; the forest doth protect the weres."

"Do you know how I can get to the center of the forest?"

"Perform the boon as I ask, and I will reward you for the task."

Niko nodded, crossing his arms to look up at the Elder Tree. There was always some favor to complete before anybody helped them. "What's the task?"

"I have but one desire, to solve a matter very dire. As I slept one early morn, a thief did come and steal my acorn."

Niko frowned. Such a simple thing. No assassination request? No helpless daughter to free from the clutches of evil? Just… "An acorn?"

"All I have is my being, my seed. Without it I am alone indeed. I cannot go and seek it out; yet I shall die if left without."

"Um… Alright."

"Go to the east to find this man. I shall await. Do what thou can."

The Elder Tree curled its branched limbs back into its still, graceful position, and the leaves on its fingers stretched out to conceal the warped wood of its face.

"An acorn?" Alistair asked with incredulity as they walked onward. "We have to look for a specific acorn in the forest?"

"Look, here is one now!" Zevran chimed in jovially, bending down to pick up a tiny acorn from the ground. "Mission accomplished!"

Niko smirked and shook his head. "Come on, it's never that easy. That Grand Oak would probably know it's not the same one."

"A squirrel could have taken it," Alistair griped. "It could be anywhere."

"The Tree said to look for a man in the east," Morrigan pointed out to him as if she were spelling it out to a child. "That is a rather specific hint, wouldn't you agree?"

"I suppose…"

"There's a camp ahead," Niko noted, breaking them away from their conversation.

It was a small camp, but a camp nonetheless; one small, dry tent and a few warm bedrolls around a campfire. Some amber leaves had fallen about the place, crunching under their boots as they inspected the set up. Though there were no signs of any campers - no packs or belongings – the fire was still smoking, a few embers left burning within. Niko felt the urge to stoke them and build up a fire, but he knew there was no point since they had to move on from here. How reluctant he was to do so…

"How odd," Morrigan commented as she glanced around with curiosity. "A camp with no campers, complete with fire and warm blankets. Rather inviting, would you not say?"

"It's also rather suspicious," Niko responded. "Who set it up?"

"Not the werewolves, surely," Zevran noted.

"Well let's look around," Niko suggested.

Morrigan went over to the tent, her eyes drooping shut as she searched within, but she reemerged with no clues or anything of value left behind.

While Alistair began lazily stoking the fire embers with a stick, Zevran and Niko took a look at the bedrolls set under a spruce tree. The Warden felt his head swimming as he stared at the blankets, his mind too hazy to search them as he intended. The weight of their travels settled heavy on his body and he wanted nothing more than to let his eyes close.

"You know, I feel as if I could sleep for days. Do you feel it?" Zevran asked him, kneeling next to the bedroll as he too was also unable to bring himself to do anything but sit about. "It's… not quite right."

"I feel it, too." Niko answered. "We need to stay awake."

Though it took every ounce of willpower and reasoning he had, Niko reluctantly stepped away from the bedroll.

Alistair continued to unthinkingly stoke the fire pit. Niko stood beside him, staring at the glowing embers as they caught sparks and slowly ebbed out delicate flames. It was spellbinding, watching the wisps of fire dance and lull him into relaxation.

"Can you feel the power here?" Niko asked as Zevran yawned behind him. "What is this?"

The last word barely escaped his lips before darkness descended upon him, his body giving in to the need for sleep…

He awoke with the most awful headache, eyes widening as he felt the magic drifting off of his body in waves of filth. It felt like death rolling over him and receding. Face flat in the frosted autumn grass, the campsite was no longer warm and welcoming, but cold and unnerving. As the pain in his head dulled, he let his eyes focus passed the mist in front of him and found himself staring at a pile of old bones.

Niko gasped and pushed himself up off the ground. Morrigan was at his side, and the others were slowly rising to their feet as well.

"What happened?" Alistair groaned.

"You mean while you all slept and I saved your lives?" Morrigan asked before explaining. "A hungry spirit luring those who pass to their rest… and their doom." She gestured to the skeletal remains around them, centuries in the making. "One might wonder how it learned such a trick. No matter. It shall prey on no one else."

"Thank you, Morrigan," Niko said. He gave the campsite one last look, a shiver running down his spine as he peered at the slumbering bones, perhaps still unaware they were ever tricked into eternal sleep. Ghosts wandering the haunted forest... He tried not to think of how close he had been to slipping so easily into death right beside them. "Let's move on."

-o-o-o-

They continued to pass through the woods as intruders, the forest itself working against them. They were never certain if they were headed in the right direction or just getting lost, especially when the fog grew so dense that they could barely see each other.

In the eastern part of the forest, they found the acorn with an old hermit, a mage living deep in the woods. He was not dissimilar to Flemeth in that way, though perhaps more unstable. After a confusing game made of questions and answers, they managed a trade and were now heading back to the Grand Oak with its acorn.

Since none of them had remembered exactly where the Elder tree was planted, they were a bit startled when the tree next to them began to move and shake free of its inert position.

"My acorn is still gone, so I pray to thee… hast thou any news for me?"

"Is this your acorn?" Niko asked, producing the item from his pack.

"My joy soars to new heights, indeed! I am reunited with my seed!" The Grand Oak reached down to gently grasp the acorn, tucking it away in its branches. It then brought out a long piece of wood, which it extended to Niko. "As promised, here it be. I hope its magic pleases thee. Keep this branch of mine with thee, and pass throughout the forest free."

Niko examined what looked to be a wooden staff, magic thrumming beneath his touch. He handed it to Morrigan.

"I wish thee well, my mortal friend," the Elder Tree went on. "Thou brought my sadness to an end. May the sunlight find you, thy days be long, thy winters kind, and thy roots be strong."

A large acorn rested against a crook in one of the branches as the Elder Tree returned to its whimsical pose. They left it alone, heading back into the deeper end of the forest, back to where they encountered the thick fog that got them turned around.

With the Elder Tree's branch, the mist seemed easier to navigate through, the path visible under thin tendrils of fog at their feet.

As they walked through, Niko edged up next to Zevran, a sneaky smirk on his face. "You know, that Grand Oak was rather good at reciting poetry."

Zevran blinked in surprise for a moment, before smiling playfully at Niko. "What are you saying, my dear Warden, you like that shrub's poetry better than _mine_? You wound me."

"Well I don't know," Niko teased. "I mean it was good… but it wasn't sex poetry."

"Yes it did lack that particular quality, I noticed." Zevran chuckled. "Ah, my Warden, I have seen such marvelous things while accompanying you. Talking trees! Who knew?"

Niko smiled, and as they passed under a crumbling archway, he turned his eye to the ruins ahead.

There were werewolves there, keeping guard. Their fur bristled as Niko and his companions approached.

"The forest has not been vigilant enough. Still you come," the werewolf known as Swiftrunner snarled. "You are stronger than we could have anticipated. The Dalish chose well. But you do not belong here, outsider. Leave this place!"

"I'm not going anywhere without Witherfang's heart," Niko swore.

At these words, Swiftrunner's body tensed in anger, barred teeth clenching tighter as he growled. "You are sent by the treacherous Dalish to kill Witherfang! I will not stand by and allow that to happen!"

"Why do you call the Dalish treacherous? You attacked them," Niko pointed out.

"And they deserved no less!" Swiftrunner snarled. "You are an intruder in our home! You come to kill, as all your kind do! We have learned this lesson well." As he spoke, the other werewolves stepped closer, readying to fight. "Here Witherfang protects us. Here we learn our names and are beloved! We will defend Witherfang and this place with our lives!"

Four werewolves attacked at once, Swiftrunner going straight for Niko. He raised his longsword just in time to avoid the long-fingered swipe of Swiftrunner's hand. The werewolves had brute strength on them, but they had armor, weapons, and spell magic.

But as Niko turned to slice open Swiftrunner, he was struck by an impressive weight and knocked to the ground. With his companions rushing to his side, the Warden pushed himself up to see a white wolf not a foot in front of him, giving him a low growl and a look of warning.

Witherfang.

At the sound of the white wolf's howl, Niko stood to see all the werewolves retreating further into the ruins along with Witherfang.

-o-o-o-

The ruin was a curiosity in itself. It was distinctly elven, yet… not. Many of the rooms were enormous cathedrals, with broken ceilings where sunlight and gnarled, thick roots jutted through the beautiful stonework.

They were far from sunlight now, deep within the ruins. They had to be nearing the werewolves' lair, the number of beasts growing with each collapsing hallway they passed through. They'd just fought their way through a number of ghosts, horrors, and the walking dead. So when they entered a dark room, empty of enemies, everyone grew suspicious.

Just as Niko spotted three claw traps ahead, they were attacked. From the doorway on the end, werewolves came. They seemed to leap from the shadows as well, catching them off guard. Niko was fighting off two at once as he heard Alistair yell out in pain. He tried to look, but one dark-haired werewolf snapped its jaws at his face. Niko raised his blade to catch the beast's open mouth with it, driving one sharp edge forward into its throat. Bright red blood spurted as the animal whined in agony and jumped away. The Warden delivered a final blow and turned to race over to Alistair side. Zevran was already there, stabbing two blades into the back of a werewolf that had its jaws sunken into Alistair's shoulder; a weak point in his armor where the rivets were.

Niko only caught a glimpse of Alistair bloody, shredded flesh before turning to face the rest of the werewolves with Morrigan. They covered Zevran while he applied healing salves and bandages to Alistair's wound. Another wolf seemed to jump right out of the dark corners of the ruin, on Niko's left flank. He turned in time to swipe his blades upward, arching the sword and dagger across the beast's belly. Morrigan had another one struck dead from a lightning bolt, and that seemed to be the last of them here.

Morrigan went over to kneel beside Alistair, wordlessly applying what she knew of healing magic to his wound.

"A-am I going to turn into a werewolf now!?" Alistair panicked, trying to get a look at his injury.

"Hold still, you buffoon!" Morrigan scolded while keeping her hands poised over the wound, working her magic over it.

"That tickles…" Alistair murmured his acknowledgment. He frowned deeply as he looked to his fellow Grey Warden. "We have absolutely got to cure this curse."

"You might not turn," Niko told him. "Zathrian said it wasn't a definite outcome."

"So I _might_ not turn into a raging beast. That's comforting."

"Since you are so verbose at the moment, dear Alistair, might we assume you are alright?" Zevran asked. "Aside from your new werewolf curse, that is."

Alistair glared a little as he stood up. "If I do turn into a werewolf, I'll be sure to eat you first, Zevran."

"Aha! You flatter me, ser."

"Let's keep going," Niko interrupted. "I think we're close."

Indeed, they were close. One of the werewolves, a gatekeeper, who had signaled the party's intrusion into the ruin met them in the next room. He was flanked by two others of his kind, snarling at Niko and his companions as they entered.

"Stop! Brothers and sisters, be at ease!" The gatekeeper told the werewolves at his sides before turning his attention back to the intruders in his home. "We do not wish any more of our people hurt. I ask you this now, outsider: are you willing to parley?"

Niko stood tense, his hand gripping the hilt of his weapon, though it was lowered for the moment. "We're talking now, aren't we? So talk."

"Not with me," the werewolf explained. "I have been sent to you on behalf of the Lady. She believes that you may not be aware of everything that you should be."

"Is that so?" Niko asked, suspicious of their intentions. Perhaps this was a trap to get them into the lair where a greater number of werewolves would be waiting for an ambush. But they'd been running through these ruins with the intent of getting into the lair anyway.

"She means you no harm," the gatekeeper assured, "Provided your willingness to parley in peace is an honest one."

"If you were willing to talk, why didn't you earlier?" Niko asked.

"Swiftrunner did not think it would matter. The Lady disagrees, and since you have forced your way this far, we must acquiesce to her wishes."

So they were scared, Niko decided. This offer came because they knew now that he and his companions were strong enough to take them all out. But perhaps it was also true that there were things he did not know, things he should know.

"Very well. I will parley."

"Follow me. But I warn you," the werewolf growled. "If you break your promise and harm her, I will come back from the Fade itself to see you pay."

Niko nodded, and the werewolf waited until their weapons were fully sheathed before turning its back on them to lead the way forward.

They would all be lying if they claimed that they were not at all afraid as they stepped into the lair. Lines of infuriated werewolves flanked them on either side. There was not a tremendous amount of them, but they came as close as they dared, snapping and snarling at Niko's party when passed by.

But at the center of the room there stood a woman – not quite a woman, though. With eyes as black as her long hair, this was a creature as wild and beautiful as nature itself. Pale green skin was unclothed, her body veiled only in thin vines snaking up her thighs to her chest. Beside her, Swiftrunner snarled and bared his teeth until she reached out one long root-like finger to caress his fur in the gentlest touch, calming the enraged werewolf into a kneeling stance.

He didn't rise again until the Lady turned to face her guests.

"I bid you welcome, mortal. I am the Lady of the Forest."

Niko faltered, realizing the full blackness of her eyes were trained on him. He'd seen many things that were difficult to believe on this journey; dragons, sacred ashes, ghosts, and horrors. But the Lady of the Forest surpassed them all.

Still, he told himself, he had business to do here.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asked instead of one of the million other questions pressing on his curious mind.

"No doubt you have questions, mortal," she said as if reading his mind. Perhaps she could. "There are things that Zathrian has not told you."

"Is that so? Such as?" Niko asked. It wasn't a surprising statement really. There had been something suspicious about Zathrian, especially in how his clan spoke of his abnormal lifespan. He definitely had secrets; that had seemed so from the start. But what were they?

"It was Zathrian who created the curse that these creatures suffer," the Lady informed them. "The same curse that Zathrian's own people now suffer. Centuries ago, when the Dalish first came to this land, a tribe of humans lived close to this forest. They sought to drive the Dalish away. Zathrian was a young man then. He had a son and daughter he loved greatly, and while out hunting the human tribe captured them both."

It was Swiftrunner who picked up the story from there, body tensing as black lips pulled back over clenched fangs. "The humans," he growled uneasily. "…tortured the boy, killed him. The girl they raped and left for dead. The Dalish found her, but she learned later she was… with child. She… killed herself."

"That's horrible," Niko said, his words catching on a throat suddenly turned dry. He couldn't help but think of the girls at his wedding. There was no knowing how badly Vaughn would have left Shianni if there hadn't been intervention. The thought alone stirred his anger. "They deserved what they got."

The Lady's face stilled for the moment. Her face betrayed no emotion, yet her quiet seemed to speak levels of ire and sorrow before she uttered a word. "Indeed they did."

"Zathrian came to this ruin and summoned a terrible spirit, binding it to the body of a great wolf," Swiftrunner went on. "So Witherfang came to be. Witherfang hunted the humans of the tribe. Many were killed, but others were cursed by his blood, becoming twisted and savage creatures…"

"Twisted and savage as Witherfang himself is," the Lady commented. Her tone held a small amount of disdain, and… shame? "They were driven into the forest. When the human tribe finally left for good, their cursed brethren remained, pitiful and mindless animals."

"Until I found you, my lady." Swiftrunenr bowed to her. "You gave me peace."

"I showed Swiftrunner that there was another side to his bestial nature. I soothed his rage, and his humanity emerged. And he brought others to me."

"So you ambushed the Dalish for revenge?" Niko asked, arms crossing over his chest. He was having a hard time feeling sympathy for them after that story.

"In part," the Lady replied stiffly, almost frowning. "We seek to end the curse. The crimes committed against Zathrian's children were grave, but they were committed centuries ago by those who are long dead."

Oh.

Niko glanced to the werewolves standing behind the Lady, to Swiftrunner, and to all the rest in the room. He'd been angered by the story, about how Zathrian's children were treated. But… these people had no part in the rape and torture. They were cursed, and that was all they were.

"Word was sent to Zathrian every time the landships passed this way, asking him to come, but he has always ignored us. We will no longer be denied."

Swiftrunner growled, shoulders hunching in an aggressive stance. "We spread the curse to his people! So he must end the curse to save them!"

"Please mortal," the Lady pleaded. "You must go to him. Bring him here. If he sees these creatures, hears their plight… surely he will agree to end the curse!"

Niko shook his head, almost grieving for her faith in the virtue of others. "I think he just wishes to cure his own people, nothing else."

Swiftrunner's hackles rose, seeming to agree. "He will never break the curse, my lady! He will never allow it! You know this!"

"We… cannot know that," she replied, a bit of doubt hanging onto her words. "Surely his rage does not run so deep he would endanger his own clan!"

Niko only frowned more. He knew of rage like Zathrian's. He'd felt it long passed the moment he severed Vaughan's head from his body. The first taste of blood only fuels the thirst for vengeance.

He'd never take back what he did to Vaughan and his friends. Niko only wished that every day he didn't feel the bone-deep desire to do it again and again and again…

He looked up to see The Lady of the Forest sneering as if she didn't find much favor in what she was about to say, but needed to say it anyway. "If Zathrian comes, I shall summon Witherfang. I possess that power. I also have the power to ensure Witherfang is never found. Tell Zathrian this. If he does not come, if he does not break the curse, he will never find Witherfang, and he will never cure his people."

Niko's eyes narrowed, sensing a lie. It was in her hard posture, and the silence that settled among the werewolves after her words. Or maybe it was not a lie, but he felt some level of manipulation here. He'd felt the same when speaking to Zathrian, as if a piece of the truth were being withheld from him.

It was then that he remembered the smallest hint from an unlikely source of aid.

_The forest had a spirit of its own, from back when its first seeds were sown._

The Lady of the Forest she was called, and now Niko knew what her connection to Witherfang was.

_Perhaps the weres are the ones to blame, for the day she left is the day they came._

"Very well," he answered. "I will go to Zathrian and tell him this."

She may have been hiding something, but she was still right about this. Zathrian needed to be brought here to end this curse.

"Return with Zathrian as soon as you can," she implored after opening the door that led up to the surface floor.

Doing so would take much less time that they thought, it seemed.

Zathrian was waiting for them in the entry room of the ruin. As Morrigan pointed out, he wanted to make sure they did his dirty work for him. He admitted to being the one to create the curse, binding the spirit of the forest to the body of a wolf.

When Niko relayed the spirit's threat to keep Witherfang hidden, Zathrian almost seemed amused, a thin-lipped smile appearing on his face as his eyes twinkled. _I know something you don't know. _It was written all over him. But Niko did know; the Lady _was_ Witherfang, beast and spirit both. It didn't change anything, and the Warden insisted on a meeting.

The Keeper was angry. Despite his calm explanations, it was obvious. Niko could feel the power beneath the surface; old magic fueled by too many long years of vengeful thirsting. The Warden was trying to be careful with this man. Provoking him to attack was the last thing they wanted. He was a powerful mage, and ancient, too. It was possible that he could take them all on himself. But Niko doubted it. If Zathrian were that powerful, he would have killed Witherfang himself. They could probably handle him, but they still needed him alive to break the curse, and they needed his clan's help against the Blight.

"Won't you at least consider talking to them?" Niko asked.

"Why?" Zathrian demanded. "You believe they have regained their minds, but they are still savage beasts. Their nature is unchanged. All they want is revenge…" He paused, perhaps realizing the irony of those words. Oh how they applied just as well to him. "Or a release I will not give them. No, let us take the heart and end it."

"…I'm not going to help you do that," Niko told him, using a reasonable tone.

"If you do not help me get the heart, then my hunters are not cured and you get no assistance against the darkspawn."

"You can meet with them. That's what I propose," Niko insisted, firmer this time. Zathrian needed to understand that he wasn't changing his mind on this.

"And what if it is revenge they want, and not talk? Will you safeguard me from harm?"

"I will, unless you attack first," Niko agreed.

Zathrian's hand went to his furrowed brow in a show of frustration. "I fail to see the purpose behind this… but very well. It has been many centuries, now. Let us see what the spirit has to say."

-o-o-o-

"She is the Lady of the Forest! You will address her properly!"

Niko's hands were on the hilt of his blades, but he would have been too late had Swiftrunner decided to take a bite out of Zathrian instead of snarling in his face.

To Zathrian's credit, he seemed unfazed.

"You've taken a name, spirit?" He mocked. "And you've given names to your pets? These… beasts who follow you?"

"It was they who gave me a name, Zathrian. And the names they take are their own. They follow me because I help them to find who they are."

All Niko could do was observe. He'd agreed to bring Zathrian here so they could speak, but he and his companions could do little else but monitor it now. He was glad the Lady of the Forest insisted on calm and reason, but had doubts that this would go so smoothly. Glancing back at his friends, he saw they wore looks of uncertainly and held guarded stances.

"Who they are has not changed from whom their ancestors were," Zathrian accused. "Wild savages! Worthless dogs! Their twisted shape only mirrors their monstrous hearts!"

"He will not help us, Lady!" Swiftrunner howled. "It is as I warned you! He is not here to talk!"

"No, I am here to talk, though I see little point in it. We all know where this will lead. Your nature compels it, as does mine."

Despite these words, Niko was holding out hope that this could still end peacefully. He felt trapped as a sideliner at the moment, unable to do anything but hope the two opposing sides could end their war.

"It does not have to be that way," the Lady insisted, echoing Niko's own thoughts. "There is room in your heart for compassion, Zathrian. Surely your retribution is spent."

Zathrian frowned as he took a step forward. "My retribution is eternal, spirit, as is my pain. This is justice, no more."

His refusal seemed to change something in the spirit. She went silent, black eyes scrutinizing him. Whenever the daunting tranquility settled upon the spirit, it spread to the werewolves. It was just as in nature, when the silence and the stillness signal danger coming, and every beast can sense it.

"Are you certain your pain is the only reason you will not end this curse?" She asked, a hit of allegation in her calm tone. "Have you told the mortal how it was created?"

Niko looked to her, blinking a moment until he realized he was no longer just a spectator but a participant in this meeting. "He said he summoned you and bound you to a wolf."

"And so he did. Witherfang and I are bound as one being. But such powerful magic could not be accomplished without Zathrian's own blood." She turned to Zathrian again, the accusation clear in her voice now. "Your people believe you have rediscovered the immortality of their ancestors, Zathrian, but that is not true. So long as the curse exists, so do you."

"No!" Zathrian protested. "That is not how it is!"

Niko shook his head, frowning. They were getting nowhere. "How far are you going to go, Zathrian?"

"I did it for my people!" Zathrian exclaimed. "I did it for my son and my daughter! For them, for justice, I would do anything!"

"The curse would not end with Zathrian's death," the Lady went on. "His life, however, relies on its existence. And I believe his death plays a part in its ending."

"Then we kill him!" Swiftrunner interjected, misinterpreting her words. "We tear him apart now!"

Stepping forward, Niko, Alistair, and Zervan unsheathed their blades, while Morrigan readied her staff.

"Just calm down," Niko said, trying to keep this from turning into bloodshed, but he was being ignored by both sides.

"For all your powers of speech, you are beasts still!" Zathrian shouted at them. "What would you gain from killing me? Only I know how the ritual ends, and I will never do it!"

"You see?" Swiftrunner hunched over, ready to pounce. "We must kill them all!"

"See?" Zathrian turned to Niko. "They turn on you just as quickly. Do what you have come here to do, Grey Warden, or get out of my way."

"Zathrian! You have to end this curse!" Niko seethed, panicking as the situation escalated. He felt control slipping away faster than he could fathom.

"We're standing for what's right, here. No matter what." Alistair was behind him on this it seemed. And Niko vaguely wondered if Alistair had forgotten about his bite, or if he really meant _no matter what_.

"Then you will die with them!" Zathrian said, taking steps back as he raised his staff. "All of you will suffer as you deserve!"

The Lady transformed into Witherfang, teeth bared before lifting her mouth in a howl. Before he or any of the werewolves could make a move, however, binding spells cropped up around every one of them. Walls of light marked their barriers, and they could only watch as Zathrian's magic rumbled throughout the room, raising wild sylvan to attack Niko and his companions.

Zevran and Niko took on the trees so Alistair could focus on putting his Templar skills to use against Zathrian. Morrigan did her best to keep an eye on all of them, aiding them with defensive spells, which was helpful when Zathrian began shooting fireballs, lightning bolts, and cold spells.

All but one sylvan was chopped down, and Zevran faced it alone when Niko got caught in another cage of roots. He smashed at the thick wood with his weapon, breaking one hand through first.

He noticed Alistair taking a heavy swing at the Keeper, who narrowly avoided the lethal hit.

"Zathrian, stop this!" Niko shouted as he continued to bust through the roots. If the Keeper could just let go of his hatred for a moment, they could end this peacefully.

He finally made it through the wooden trap, only to hear Alistair shout a warning.

"He's using blood magic!"

Blood spilled slowly out of one of Zathrian's wounds, running bright and red with a readied spell.

Niko felt something stir within him, and he panicked as his own blood began to run hot in his veins. It didn't have the intended crippling effect on any of them though. And Zathrian tried harder to push out more power, but it only wounded him more.

The Keeper barely had time to roll out of the way of Zevran's twin blades, followed immediately by Alistair's sword digging into the earth where Zathrian's body once was.

"No, no more," Zathrian pleaded, bowing his head as he kneeled before their mercy. "I… I cannot defeat you…"

They all felt relief as the excessive warmth and tingling in their veins subsided, the blood-powered spell gone.

Zathrian commanded the power of the forest, the power of the elements, and the power of blood. But still he was beaten.


	13. A Pirate, an Assassin, and a Grey Warden

**Author's Note:** As you can tell from the chapter title, Isabela is in this update. Woohoo! I was considering writing the sex scene, but I have never written smut featuring a female character or a threesome before, and I didn't want my first try at it to be on a public story.

**Pairings:** Zevran/(M)Tabris, Zevran/(M)Tabris/Isabela

**Chapter Rating:** T

* * *

**Chapter 13**

A Pirate, an Assassin, and a Grey Warden Walk into a Bar…

Laying on his bedroll beside the blazing fire, Zevran let the warmth settle over him as his eyes shut. Camped somewhere in the Southron hills, not far from the Brecilian Passage, they'd experienced their first snow fall of the year earlier today, only to have it melt just hours later.

It wouldn't be this cold in Antiva, Zevran knew, just as he also knew that in Antiva, they would be into the second week of Satinalia celebrations right now. Traveling here in Ferelden with the Grey Wardens, however, the holiday had come and gone without any mention, as they were deep in the hills and far from any city where there might be feasts, and costumes, and gift-giving. Even if they were, Zevran doubted any place in Ferelden could do Satinalia the way they did in Antiva City. He was sorely homesick.

On the thought of gift-giving, his eyes trailed down to the pair of gloves tucked into his belt. He smiled and stroked the thick leather, admiring the impeccable stitching under the light of the fire.

Niko had given them to him once they'd left the Brecilian Forest and set up camp here. Of course, while walking days through the haunted woods, they had found many pairs of Dalish gloves, of varying quality. But that was beside the point. No one except for Niko had ever given him a gift with such sentiment behind it.

_They're Dalish gloves, like your mother's._

Zevran clutched the soft leather to his bare chest, smiling.

He gave a glance to Sten and Shale, who were keeping watch. Early that morning, Niko, Alistair, and Wynne had taken the mabari hound towards the Korcari Wilds to tend to some personal business. They'd been gone all day, after Niko had what seemed to be a rather stern, one-sided discussion with his dog about not biting darkspawn for fear of corruption. Zevran would have found it silly had he not known how intelligent Gideon truly was. There was no doubt that the hound understood every word from his master.

With the Grey Wardens gone, however, that left the rest of them back at camp on full alert since none of them could sense darkspawn coming. Journeying through the Southron Hills months back had proven the meadows and knolls to be crawling with the blighted things, attacking caravans and travelers who passed through.

They hadn't seen any so far though, and Morrigan speculated the darkspawn would be more concerned with defending their foothold in Ostagar, so most of them would have returned there. It gave Zevran a rather good hint at what the Wardens were up to today.

Leliana had already begun boiling water over the fire when the others returned. Zevran watched with interest as they trod silently into camp, stone-faced, but successful in their endeavors.

While Wynne and Alistair went straight for boiling water to wash away the layers of enemy blood caked onto their skin, the first thing Niko did was walk over to Morrigan and hand her a rather large, sinister-looking book. She seemed pleased, giving the Warden a small smile before they parted.

Niko turned back with the intention of giving himself and his dog a good wash, but was disrupted by the sound of wooden wheels turning through the tall grass towards them.

"A small caravan is headed this way," Sten supplied as he looked beyond where Niko could see, being taller as he was.

Zevran stood, keeping his eyes on the intrusion as it neared. It could not be Bodahn and his son; their caravan was already parked in plain sight just on the outskirts of camp, as he could very well see.

"Should I crush it?" Shale asked, almost a hint of eagerness in the statue's tone as it curled its stony fingers into fists.

"Not yet," Niko instructed. "Let's see who it is."

Alistair looked to Niko, wondering if he should strap his armor and shield back on, but Niko waved him off so he could get back to washing.

None of them seemed _too_ concerned, though it had only been a few days ago that they'd been attacked by a group of assassins targeting Leliana. The amateurs had proved fairly easy to dispatch, and perhaps everyone believed that this encounter would be just as simple to handle if it came to a fight. And they were probably right. But Zevran knew that all it took was one opening and a quick turn of the blade to eliminate a target. So he was in the habit of being cautious.

As he rounded the tents and shrouded himself among the cluster of trees surrounding camp, the assassin tucked the Dalish gloves back into his belt and sheathed a small dagger there as well.

They'd dealt with ambushes before. And while he was not sure that this was one, Zevran vowed that no one was getting the jump on them as long as he was around.

He watched from among the trees as a fair-haired man climbed down from his ox-drawn caravan. He looked a little nervous as he spoke to Niko, though Zevran could make out only a little of the exchange. His name was Levi Dryden and he mentioned a favor. Niko called Alistair over at this point, and Zevran's hand relaxed from the hilt of his dagger. There didn't seem to be a threat from this man, though he continued to watch just to be certain.

Whatever they were discussing, Alistair seemed fully on board with it, judging by the tone of his voice. It sounded like he was making a royal promise when he said the man's faith in the Wardens would be rewarded.

With the look of hope and gratitude, the man turned his wagon back around. Niko started shucking his leather armor immediately as he walked back with Alistair. Zevran couldn't keep his eyes from trailing over the elven Warden's weary muscles. The fatigue did not escape his gaze. Whatever mission they had been on today had drained the Warden inside and out.

Sea-green eyes flickered to his across the distance and Zevran knew he was noticed. An easy smile settled onto Niko's face. He dropped his armor pieces and shirt on the ground as he walked into the darkness that the assassin was veiled in.

"Spying?" Niko asked him.

"Just making sure our visitor was not to pull a blade on you, my dear Warden," Zevran explained, and Niko was surprised by the serious answer.

"Thank you…" he said and it was Zevran's turn to look surprised now. "For watching out for me," Niko clarified.

Zevran wanted to tell him it was his duty… that he'd promised himself in to the Warden's service. But it was more than that and he knew it. Yet he couldn't say that either, could he? So instead he remained silent as a hand reached out to stroke his tattooed cheek.

Zevran's eyes shut as he took a step closer. His hands settled on Niko's waist and he smoothly backed the Warden up against a tree trunk.

"I should go wash up…" Niko began his protest, but he lacked the motivation to follow through with it as Zevran began kissing his chest, which was free of blood spatters. He was unable to resist sliding his hands up Zevran's muscled back as his eyelids dropped in a haze of desire.

"But the blood stains make you look so _fierce_," Zevran said with a grin as he lifted his gaze to Niko again. "Your ferocity, it drives me to the peaks of desire!"

Niko laughed at Zevran's whispered exclamation. He was then suddenly lifted by his thighs and his back pressed into the rough tree bark, held there against the assassin. "Zev," he gasped, lust simmering just beneath his breath.

"You think I am kidding you about this," Zevran chuckled softly and began placing wet kisses along the Warden's exposed stomach.

Niko hummed in approval, his legs wrapping more tightly around Zevran's waist for leverage.

"I guess Wynne was right," he teased the blond elf. "Your mind is only ever on one thing."

"Slander and lies," Zevran murmured against the Warden's skin. "And you are trying to bring dear Wynne in on our fun now, I see."

"No," Niko quickly denied, causing Zevran to grin at him before moving his lips to the Warden's neck. "She just lectured me about fooling around with you is all," he admitted. "She thinks it's irresponsible."

"Hm." Zevran withdrew his lips and looked up at him. "And you disagree?"

Niko frowned in thought. At the time, he had just thought Wynne was being intrusive and blowing things out of proportion. But looking at Zevran now… He knew they were just having fun. This wasn't about choosing love over duty. But he did care about the assassin, and the idea of having to choose between saving him or saving the country…

At the troubling look on his face, Zevran gave Niko's thighs an affectionate squeeze and set him back down on his feet. "Or perhaps you do agree."

"No." Niko shook his head. He didn't want Zevran to think that. Wynne _was_ making too big a deal out of this. What were the chances that he'd have to make that decision anyway? "No," he said again, looking into Zevran's eyes. "I like you. I have fun with you... I'm allowed to have that, aren't I?"

It sounded like a genuine question, like Niko didn't even know the answer anymore. And that made Zevran wish he could take him away from here and let someone else handle the Blight. It was a silly thought, he knew, but he thought it nonetheless. "Yes, I should think so," he answered, looking back into green eyes to make sure his words were believed. "Your life does not have to be filled with only death and darkspawn, does it? Surely there is at least a little room for pleasure."

"Pleasure?" Niko smirked, raising one eyebrow at him.

"And by pleasure I mean sex, of course," Zevran laughed, closing the distance between them again. "After all, my mind is only on one thing, no?"

Niko's breathy laugh tickled Zevran's lips. "No. I don't think that's true."

Caught off guard by that statement, Zevran's smile faltered for a briefest of moments before it returned. And then he kissed the Warden, slow and soft, but insistent. He caught Niko's lower lip between his own and tugged gently. Rough tree bark scraped against Niko's back, in contrast with the smooth skin pressed to his own bare chest. Despite the chill in the air and the frost on the ground, there was heat between them as their tongues met and their hands teased bare flesh.

Niko surged forward, eager to taste more of Zevran, and he obliged, though he soon broke away to trail his lips down Niko's collar bone.

The Warden gasped a little at the sensation, and his fingers threaded into Zevran's long hair.

"Perhaps you'd like to continue this in your tent, hm?" Zevran asked, nuzzling the Warden's neck.

"You know… Wynne also told me the others have been losing sleep because of us."

Zevran let out a bark of laughter. "Well then perhaps you should try to be a bit quieter."

"Me? What about- ah!" Niko gasped louder than he meant to when Zevran suddenly bit into the curve of his neck, teeth grazing the tender flesh there.

He could feel the laughter rumble in Zevran's chest, though he didn't hear it. He was about to chastise the insufferable Antivan, but then he started kissing him again and Niko just didn't want it to stop.

When their lips finally parted, they stayed close, breathing in the crisp air between them for a long moment. It was cold, late autumn, and the burn of the campfire called to them.

Wynne had already started bathing Gideon, freeing his fur of dragon-witch blood. Niko grabbed a wet rag and spared a glance over at Zevran, who disappeared into his tent to find a warm shirt. As Niko scrubbed the sweat and blood from his brow, he noticed where Alistair was sitting on a log, soiled armor, weaponry, and a single silver chalice piled at his feet. Niko didn't really need to look closer to know that Alistair was cleaning the darkspawn blood coating King Cailan's armor right now.

They'd given the dead King a funeral pyre before they left Ostagar, though it seemed insufficient. It was all they could do for him; a small gathering of people who didn't even really know him, but who honored him nonetheless. Leaving him to rot where the darkspawn left him was out of the question.

They didn't find Duncan's body, or many others for that matter. Morrigan had said back on that day of battle that there were bodies being dragged off, some still alive…

Once he was clean himself, Niko put his shirt back on and wordlessly sat beside Alistair. Taking up his rag and Duncan's dagger, he began wiping off the ogre blood that soaked it to the hilt.

"You should keep that," Alistair said quietly.

Niko glanced to his friend and then to the blade. The red steel looked menacing under fire light. It would be nice to hold something of Duncan's, to wield it in his honor against the Fifth Blight.

He smiled a little, and they continued to clean the belongings of fallen men in silence. The only thing not completely covered in darkspawn filth was the dragonbone sword King Cailan had wielded, as his father before him did. In fact, the rune-marked blade seemed to actually repel the poisoned blood. Neither of them had ever seen a more powerful weapon.

Niko scrubbed harder at the hilt of Duncan's dagger, where the blood caked over some kind of etchings. Angling it towards the light of the fire, he took a closer look, digging into the grooves with the rag until the engraving was uncovered…

_In peace, vigilance. In war, victory. In death, sacrifice._

-o-o-o-

The next morning, it was decided that they would be taking the northern road towards Orzammar, but they would be making at least one other stop along the way.

There was an old Grey Warden base called Soldier's Peak up near the Coastlands. They were going to meet up with Levi Dryden so he could lead them through the tunnels to the fortress.

Niko explained a bit more to the others on the way. Apparently Levi Dryden's great-great-grandmother was Warden-Commander back in the day of King Arland's reign. King Arland was the one who banished the Grey Wardens from Ferelden before King Maric allowed them back two centuries later. Most information about King Arland's rule was lost in a civil war that broke out, so no one really knew what went on at Soldier's Peak, where Commander Dryden died. But being fervent Warden-supporters, the Drydens revered Sophia, despite the fact that the Grey Wardens were banished from the nation under her command. Levi sought to find evidence to restore the family honor.

"We're going to Soldier's Peak with two objectives," Niko told them when they got onto the Imperial Highway. "To reclaim the old Warden base, and find evidence that might tell us what happened there."

Sten looked at him, disapproving. "How will this help stop the Blight?"

"This is Grey Warden business, Sten," Alistair chimed in. "_Duncan_ wanted this. We have to go."

He didn't endorse it, but Sten let it go this time.

After some group deliberation, they decided to stop at Denerim, too, since it was on the way. Leliana had personal business to tend to there, and Niko wanted to stop into Wade's Emporium.

When they neared the city, the dwarven merchant, Bodahn, and his son, Sandal, met up with them on the Imperial Highway. They hadn't strayed very far; they never did really. Sometimes Bodahn ventured off to loot nearby villages that had already fallen to the darkspawn. There, he'd find items to sell on the road. But he'd always meet up with the party again soon, trailing not too far behind.

"You're tellin' me you brought in a couple of drake scales, and the man shut down his whole store just to make you armor?" Bodahn asked.

"Yes," Niko replied, trying to refrain from smirking.

"Hahaa! And now you're bringing him more?"

"I am," the Warden confirmed, unable to hold back from grinning anymore. "I suspect I'll be banned from Wade's Emporium at this rate. It is very good armor though."

"I have to agree," Leliana chimed in, as she was the one wearing the drake scale armor Niko had commissioned before. "Though he could have added a little color."

"This time I'll ask him to dye it," Niko joked. "What color do you think?"

"Hmm… Dark blue? With… jade accents!" Leliana gushed. "Oh, that would look wonderful with your skin color."

"I have a nice hat that would go well with that, serah," Bodahn told him, turning to rummage through one of his sacks. "You can bet your knickers I do!"

Niko smiled and rolled his eyes. He was pretty sure that was about the seventh time Bodahn tried to sell him that damn hat. And when it wasn't the hat, it was the cheese knife.

They set up camp a few miles outside Denerim. By mid-afternoon, Niko took a small group into the city.

Zevran scoped out the house Leliana's would-be assassin had pointed them to, and they decided to lay low and wait for night fall. They split up to avoid drawing attention to themselves, though they all had eyes on each other. Leliana was at the chanter's board, reading the notes posted there. Alistair was keeping his head down amidst the crowds at the market stalls while making some trades. Zevran kept to the shadows, watching them all.

Niko exited Wade's emporium and nearly collided with a guard dressed in impressive silverite chainmail.

He suffered the same tremor of fear he'd always felt when he got in a guard's way in Denerim. It was no different from when he'd lived here, only this time it wasn't just because he was an elf.

"Oh uh... can I help you Warden?"

Blinking in surprise, Niko looked up at the human's face, completely non-threatening despite the expensive, specially-appointed sergeant armor and set of matching blades on his back.

"How do you know who I am?"

"Your likeness was passed around to the senior guardsmen at the palace," he explained respectfully. "I must say, the sketch didn't do you much justice."

Just months ago, a guard like this might have spat in his face for almost bumping into him. This one was complimenting him instead… while acknowledging him as a wanted man… Niko could do nothing but stare at him.

"Don't worry," the guard assured. "Even if I believed the official story of what happened at Ostagar, I'm no fool. If I asked _my_ men to apprehend you, they'd all cry big sobby tears in their courtesan's bosoms and leave me all alone to be skewered."

Niko couldn't help but grin at the thought of all the guardsmen running scared from the poor, little city elf they used to kick dust at.

"Don't disturb the peace in the market, and that's well enough for me," the Sergeant added.

"Is the Market really that bad?" Niko asked. He couldn't help but glance in the direction of the Alienage gates, though he'd been avoiding the thought of it all day. Could the Market District be worse off than the Alienage? Not that anyone cared how well off the Alienage was, so it wasn't really an indicator. The gates were still closed and no one was allowed in or out. There were still elves outside the gates though; the ones who hadn't been in the Alienage when the gates were closed off in the first place. They were left barred from their homes, their community, and their families and friends.

Actually it just made more sense that the Market District was getting bad then. More vulnerable people out on the streets. The elves were both targets for violence and desperate enough to resort to crime themselves. Plus, there was a civil war going on and a lot of guardsmen probably joined the army, leaving the city understaffed in security.

"The lower market isn't deemed important by the Captain of the Guard," the Sergeant told him, not even trying to conceal the annoyance in his tone. "Even less with Arl Howe in charge. So when I finally get the new men I request, I get the _delightful_ surprise of finding out they're Lord such-and-such's illegitimate, untrained, moronic whelps. But Lords keep sending me more of them. It's decent pay, no expectations, a uniform. So I have a legion of bastards to protect the market from pickpockets, stabbings, and whatnot. And Arl Howe's _specially-picked_ men are the worst of the lot."

"How are they worse?" Niko asked, though he wasn't sure if he wanted to know. Any news to do with Howe always came out bad.

"With the bastards, all I have to worry about is dicing, the odd bit of drool, or yelling at them too loudly and hurting their poor feelings, and then getting chewed out by their noble fathers. But I swear, the Arl's men are more criminal than the miscreants we occasionally arrest. Some of them _are_ the criminals we have to arrest. So if your lifeblood isn't draining in the gutters as we speak, don't bother reporting it."

Niko grimaced at the imagery. For his family, that could be a real scenario right now. He still had no idea what was going on in the Alienage. He found himself offering assistance before he even really thought about it.

"What? You're serious?" The Sergeant gave him a sideways look, before the doubt faded from his face and was replaced with surprise and gratitude. "I- yes. Yes, I could use help. I've got a pretty popular- uh… establishment crawling with mercenaries. If I send my boys in, someone might get – Maker forbid – hurt." He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "And I'll have to explain to their noble fathers that being a guard is actually dangerous."

Niko smirked. He kind of liked this guy. "What do you need me to do?"

"The name of the whorehouse is The Pearl," he explained. It was a place Niko knew of. "Beat down any mercenaries that are out of line and send them a message." The Sergeant suddenly gave him a stern look. "I said beat down, not kill. Let me make that really clear. Not on fire, or exploded, or Maker knows whatever type of grisly death you can dream up…" Just as his exasperation seemed to hit a peak, the man must have noticed the look of surprise on Niko's face, for he suddenly calmed. "Sorry. Used to giving orders to my boys. Just leave them breathing and I'll be happy."

Niko smiled easily. "Sign me up, Sergeant."

"Thank you, Warden." There was almost a sigh of relief in the man's words. "Happy hunting."

After grabbing Zevran, Alistair, and Leliana, the four of them headed out of the markets. Niko led them through familiar side streets and back roads to the whorehouse. It wasn't far from the docks Niko used to pick up work at, handling both legitimate and illegal goods from ships coming in.

Niko had only been in The Pearl a few times himself, though never for pleasure. When they walked in, there was already a fight going on in the corner involving a lightly-armored woman outnumbered by a few men. Zevran seemed particularly interested in watching, and it drew everyone's attention when it became very clear that the woman had them severely outmatched in skill.

The way she moved with her blades, finding a counter for every attack thrown at her. It was hard for Niko to draw his eyes away, but he had business to do here. Just like every other time he'd come to this place, it was for a job. Only this time it was legal work… well sort of. He was still considered a traitor to the throne as a Grey Warden, so Sergeant Kylon was probably out of line by hiring them to do this.

But the White Falcons proved quite easy to dispatch with just a little convincing. _Actual_ convincing, too. No bloodshed at all.

_'I'd make a decent guard,'_ Niko thought. Not like some of the scum he'd come across in his life here. They didn't care about their jobs, about protecting people. Back then, there was only ever one guardsman Niko thought was worthy of the title.

Jaren had been a good man. Despite how their fling ended, Niko believed that. They met for the first time very near here. Months before his engagement was even planned, Niko had been working on the docks one evening. He got into a dispute with a human. It was over something stupid. Things like that didn't usually end well for elves, except Niko knew how to fight well. He was _better_, and he had the audacity to prove it. Though that wouldn't matter. It never did. Uppity elves still get put in their place.

But Jaren had been on patrol and broke it up before it even got close to out of hand. He didn't punish Niko, or threaten, or take advantage of him. _'I'll escort you back to the Alienage. It's gettin' to be too late for any law-abiding elves to be out and about anyway.'_

Niko smiled at the memory, and the lingering, unabashed looks he'd received from the handsome guard on the walk back to the slums. He'd always admired the way Jaren could be so mannerly or flirtatious at any moment and still maintain the air of a rightful authority figure. He was so drawn in… and it had been so easy to turn it into something else. Something forbidden.

A polite guard had been a novelty to Niko at the time. He'd since met others outside of Denerim. And even Sergeant Kylon seemed to have some of those qualities, though maybe he was only friendly because Niko was a Grey Warden. Jaren had loved being a guard though. It was why he'd called off their fling, for fear of losing his job.

The sound of the whorehouse proprietor calling out a thanks to him stirred Niko from his thoughts. Back in reality, he suddenly felt guilty for thinking of Jaren when Zevran was right here with him. And then he felt ridiculous for feeling guilty because he and Zevran were not even a couple.

Niko shook his head and turned to his companions. Zevran was smiling over at the fight going on in the corner, which just ended. The pitiful men ran off with their tails tucked between their legs as the woman shouted insults at them.

"Why don't we get some drinks before we go?" Niko suggested to his group. "We can lay low here until it gets dark." _And then we can pay Marjolaine a visit._ It was an unspoken but understood part of the plan.

Leliana nodded, and so did Alistair after some hesitancy.

Niko left them to it. He gave a glance to Zevran, catching his eye, and the assassin followed him when he went off to meet the woman in the corner.

She saw them approach, her full lips turning up in a smirk when she laid eyes on Zevran. "Ah look who we have here. Come to apologize for leaving me bereft of my Lord husband and then vanishing without a trace?"

Niko looked to Zevran, who gave the woman a devious smile and knowing eyes.

Well there was definitely a story here.

"You know it was just business, Isabela. Business that turned out well for you, I see. You inherited the ship, I take it?"

"Hmph." She crossed her arms, drawing their attention to her well-developed chest. Even Niko couldn't help but take notice. "I suppose I never did like the greasy bastard. And the Siren treats me far better than she ever did him." She turned to her tankard on the table and took a swig from it before settling her eyes on Zevran again.

By now, Niko felt distinctly out of place. "Shall I let you two catch up?"

"Any catching up Zevran and I have to do, we wouldn't be doing out here in the open."

Well that was rather blunt, and Niko couldn't help but admire that trait, though he also had to refrain from wincing. What was that…? That… stab of jealousy. _'Why am I jealous!?'_

"Now Zev, shouldn't you introduce us?" Isabela asked him.

"Indeed," Zevran replied and turned to look at the Warden. "This is Isabela, Queen of the Eastern Seas, and the sharpest blade in Llomerryn." Niko smiled. If he hadn't been impressed already, he definitely was now. Zevran turned to the human now, grinning. "And Isabela, you will no doubt be amused to discover that I am travelling with a Grey Warden."

"A Grey Warden?" Isabela's eyes flickered with intrigue as she looked to Niko. "Charmed."

The smolder in her eyes distracted Niko. "You're fighting skills are impressive."

"I assume you saw that little drama?" She chuckled. "None of these poor brutes has ever proven a match for me. They are too clumsy and predictable. I fight with quickness and wit, rather than with brute force and strength. I call myself a duelist because I honed my skills in duels with warriors I encountered over the years."

"Will you teach me what you know?"

She smiled a genuine smile. "Ha! An unusual request coming from a fearsome slayer of darkspawn. I am flattered that you wish to learn from me, sweet thing."

Niko blushed a little at the nickname, though he found he didn't mind it. He did kind of mind the lewd smirk Zevran was giving him now. Niko could see it out of the corner of his vision.

"It will take you years of practice to achieve mastery of the style," Isabela said, drawing his attention back. "But I can teach you the basics. I do, however, wish to get to know my potential student better, so we shall call for a drink and you will honor me with a game."

A smile remained on Niko's face, but underneath it he was cursing himself. _'She means cards. Damn it… I suck at cards. __**Soris**__ even beats me at cards!'_

Hoping to avoid embarrassing himself, Niko tried to find a way out of it. "Are there no other ways for us to get to know each other?"

That spark that had been in Isabela's eyes this whole time seemed to intensify, a fiery gaze that had Niko sweating as he finally recognized it for what it was. _Lust_.

Waves of brunette hair brushed her shoulder as she inclined her head at him. "Do you have… something _else_ in mind?"

What she was inferring wasn't exactly what Niko had in mind, but now Isabela and Zevran were both looking at him expectantly.

He glanced to Zevran, who looked back at him with an intrigued expression. He was waiting to see if Niko would go through with it, but it was hard to say whether he was okay with it or not. Maybe he'd want to join them? _That_ sounded like a fun idea.

"I was thinking Zev and I could come aboard your ship. You two can catch up and… you could show us what's below deck."

"Ooh, and now you've piqued my interest," Isabela said. "It would surely be rude of me to decline such a… delicious offer."

Sparing another glance at Zevran, Niko knew he'd made the right choice. The assassin was giving him such a delighted smirk. "I've said it before and I will say it again, I learn something new about you every day, my dear Warden."

"Ah this brings back memories." Isabela smiled at Zevran and then looked to Niko. "Come. My ship is down by the docks." She kept her eyes trained on the Warden as she brushed him by to lead the way. "And I am sure you will find my cabins quite… comfortable."

Zevran chuckled and went to follow after her, but Niko grabbed his hand to stop him. "What should we tell the others?" he asked, and Zevran glanced over to Leliana and Alistair nursing drinks at the bar.

"Ah, leave that to me, dear man." Zevran ignored Niko's following protests and went over to their companions.

"Zevran!" Alistair shouted, swiveling around to look at the elf. "Y'should try the ale 'ere. It'sss…. s'great."

With a dopey grin on his face, Alistair went back to sipping his drink, while Leliana shook her head at him.

"He only had one drink," she exclaimed.

"Well, best he stay here and regain his senses before we see to handling your business, yes?" Zevran suggested, and then carefully chose how to phrase his next words. "Our dear friend Niko is pursuing an opportunity he could not pass up. And I shall accompany him to… oversee the goings-on."

Leliana's eyes narrowed in scrutiny. "I am sure."

"We will meet you in the Market District." He left without another word, catching up with Niko and Isabela outside.

"What did you tell them?" Niko pried.

Zevran chuckled and slid an arm around Niko's waist as he walked with him. He threw a wink in Isabela's direction when he caught her giving them a mischievous look. "I told them the truth, of course," he teased, knowing that was exactly what Niko was afraid of. "That Isabela and I are going to show you every pleasure of the flesh you can imagine, and then some."

Niko rolled his eyes. "Well, I hope you also told Leliana we'd be back in time to help her."

"Of course," Zevran chuckled.

Like thieves in the night, they twisted through short alleyways to the docks, where the _Siren's Call_ waited for them.

Isabela led them onboard. Her men were back at the Pearl enjoying shore leave, so it was rather empty. The Captain's quarters was their destination, however.

It was dark, only a few torch sconces lighting the room and there was a large, ornate rug under their feet when they stepped inside. A heavy desk lined the far wall, a map of Thedas tacked to the wood above it. There was also a small round table with two chairs on their right, but it was the large, plush bed on the other side that they were aiming for.

Isabela shut the door and smiled warmly at them. She sauntered over and began unbuckling Niko's armor while Zevran did the same from behind him.

Niko's heart pounded in his chest when Isabela kissed him, her lips soon trailing down to a newly-exposed chest. Behind him, Zevran's hands found their grasp at Niko's hips, and the Warden looked back to kiss him too.

He'd never done this before. The Warden wasn't quite sure how to split his attention between two partners. But they seemed to know exactly what they were doing, and Niko fit just nicely into the routine with them guiding the way.

Soon, every piece of their armor and clothing littered the floor.

While Zevran was pressed to his back trailing kisses and nips along his neck, Niko was holding Isabela close and kissing her in ways he'd never kissed a woman before. And she and Zevran would meet over Niko's shoulder to kiss each other, too. There were so many hands and lips involved, so much skin, so many touches… it was hard not to get distracted pressed between them as he was. And Niko found he was enjoying this as much as they were. Definitely more fun than playing card games…

-o-o-o-

"Back home we call that an Antivan Milk Sandwich!" Zevran chuckled as he finally rested. Niko was curled up to him on one side and Isabela on the other.

Niko's smirk softened into a smile as Zevran took his chin and tilted it up for a kiss. He felt Isabela's hand reach for him and caress his side before moving it to Zevran's chest.

"Well that brought back memories, didn't it Zev? Pleasant ones even."

"For you, maybe. I still remember the time your husband tried to kill me. I had to flee across the rooftops completely unclothed."

"Ah yes," she smiled softly and sat up to get dressed. "Those pleasant memories… Now," she said, suddenly looking to Niko. "Wasn't there something you wanted from me? A lesson perhaps?"

"We have something we have to go take care of," Niko remembered. "Can I meet you back at The Pearl later?"

"Of course, sweet thing."

This time, the nickname made Niko grin.

He and Zevran hastily put their clothes and armor back on before they rushed back out into the city.

The sun had just begun to set by the time they made it back to the Market District, where a sober Alistair and an anxious Leliana were waiting in the back streets.

"What took you so long?" she asked them, then took a good look at them. "And why are you covered in blood?"

"Sorry, Leliana," Niko apologized. "We were… doing something. And those White Falcon mercenaries caught up with us on the way here. We had to kill them."

"Did any guards see you?" Alistair asked right away.

"Yeah," Niko answered with a smirk. "Sergeant Kylon was fighting right beside me."

"Are we ready to do what we came here for?" Zevran asked. And everyone turned serious as they glanced to Marjolaine's house and then to Leliana.

With determination, she nodded. "Let's go."


End file.
